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SUNSHINE    LIBRARY. 


THE    BLIND    BROTHER. 

By  Homer  Greene $0.50 

THE   CAPTAIN'S    DOG. 

By  Louis   Enault 50 

DEAR    LITTLE    MARCHIONESS. 

The  Story  of  a  Child's  Faith  and  Love 50 

DICK   IN   THE    DESERT. 

By  James  Otis 50 

THE   GOLD    THREAD, 

By  Norman  McLeod,  D.D 50 

HOW   TOMMY   SAVED   THE    BARN. 

By    lames  Otis 50 

J,    COLE. 

By  Emma  Gellibrand 50 

JESSICA'S    FIRST    PRAYER. 

By  Hesba  Stretton 50 

LADDIE. 

By  the  Author  of  "Miss  Toosey's  Mi'ssion  " 50 

LITTLE    PETER. 

By  Lucas  Malet 50 

MASTER    SUNSHINE. 

By  Mrs.   C.    F.    Fraser 50 

MISS   TOOSEY'S    MISSION. 

By  the  Author  of  "  Laddie" 50 

MUSICAL   JOURNEY   OF   DOROTHY   AND    DELIA. 

By  Bradley  Gilman 50 

A   SHORT   CRUISE.  , 

By  James  Otis 50 

THE   WRECK    OF   THE   CIRCUS. 

By  James  Otis 50 

THOMAS  Y.   CROWELL  &.  COMPANY, 
NEW   YORK   AND    BOSTON. 


Thanks  to  the  timki,y  Attention,  Dick  soon  opened  his  Eyes."— Paee  48. 


Dick  in  the  Desert 


BY 

JAMES    OTIS 

AUTHOR  OK  *'  HOW  TOMMY  SAVED  THE  BARN,"  ETC. 


New  York  :  46  East  14th  Street 

THOMAS  Y.  CROWELL  &  COMPANY 

Bosrox  :  100  Purchase  Street 


1^3 


Copyright,  1893, 
By  Thomas  Y.  Crowkll  &  Company 


Typography  by  C.  J.  Peters  <fe  Son,  Boston. 
Prbsswork  by  S.  J.  Parkhill  &  Co. 


S"  >i  M  90 


For  the  lad  to  whom  I  have  given  the  name  of  Dick 

Stevens  this  little  story  has  been  written,  with  the  hope 

that  he  may  enjoy  the   reading  of  it  even  as   I  did  his 

modest  manner  of  telling  it. 

James  Otis. 


COTSTTEXTS. 


CHAPTEB  PAGE 

I.  Dick's  Daddy 1 

II.  A  Lonely  Vigil 17 

III.  A  Sand-Storm 34 

IV.  At  Antelope  Spring 52 

V.  Dick  "  Pulls  Through  " 69 


DICK    I]^    THE    DESERT. 


CHAPTER  I. 

dick's  daddy. 

lETWEEN  Fox  Peak  and  Smoke  Creek 
Desert,  on  the  western  edge  of  the  State 
of  Nevada,  is  a  beautiful  valley,  carpeted 
with  bunch  grass,  which  looks  particu- 
larly bright  and  green  to  the  venturesome  traveller 
who  has  just  crossed  either  of  the  two  deserts  lying 
toward  the  east. 

"Buffalo  Meadows"  the  Indians  named  it,  be- 
cause of  the  vast  herds  of  American  bison  found 
there  before  the  white  men  hunted  simply  for  the 
sport  of  killing;  but  those  who  halt  at  the  last 
watercourse  prior  to  crossing  the  wide  stretches 
of  sand  on  the  journey  east,  speak  of  it  as  "  Com- 
fort Hollow." 

To  a   travel-stained   party  who   halted   at   the 


2  DICK  IN  THE  DESERT. 

water-pool  nearest  the  desert  on  a  certain  after- 
noon in  September  two  years  ago,  this  last  name 
seemed  particularly  appropriate. 

They  had  come  neither  for  gold  nor  the  sport  of 
hunting ;  but  were  wearily  retracing  their  steps, 
after  having  wandered  and  suffered  among  the 
foot-hills  of  the  Sierras  in  a  fruitless  search  for  a 
home,  on  which  they  had  been  lured  by  unscrupu- 
lous speculators. 

Nearly  two  years  previous  Richard  Stevens — 
"Roving  Dick"  his  acquaintances  called  him — had 
first  crossed  the  vast  plain  of  sand,  with  his  wife, 
son,  and  daughter. 

His  entire  worldly  possessions  consisted  of  a 
small  assortment  of  household  goods  packed  in 
a  stout,  long-bodied  wagon,  covered  with  canvas 
stretched  over  five  poles  bent  in  a  half-circle,  and 
drawn  by  two  decrepit  horses. 

The  journey  had  been  a  failure,  so  far  as  finding 
a  home  in  the  wilds  was  concerned,  where  the  head 
of  the  family  could  live  without  much  labor ;  and 
now  the  homeless  ones,  decidedly  the  worse  for 
wear,  were  returning  to  Willow  Point,  on  the  Lit- 
tle Humboldt  River. 

The  provisions  had  long  since  been  exhausted; 
the  wagon  rudely  repaired  in  many  places;  the 
cooking  utensils  were  reduced  to  one  pot  and  a 


DICK'S  BADDY.  3 

battered  dipper ;  the  canvas  covering  was  torn  and 
decaying,  and  the  horses  presented  a  skeleton-Hke 
appearance. 

The  family  had  suffered  outwardly  quite  as 
much  as  the  goods.  Young  Dick  and  his  father 
wore  clothing  which  had  been  patched  and  re- 
patched  with  anything  Mrs.  Stevens  could  push  a 
needle  through,  until  it  would  have  been  impos- 
sible to  say  what  was  the  original  material ;  but  to 
a  boy  thirteen  years  of  age  this  seemed  a  matter 
of  little  consequence,  while  his  father  preferred 
such  a  costume  rather  than  exert  himself  to  tan 
deer-hides  for  one  more  serviceable. 

Mrs.  Stevens  and  six-year-old  Margie  were  in  a 
less  forlorn  condition  as  to  garments;  but  they  also 
needed  a  new  outfit  sadly,  and  nearly  every  day 
young  Dick  told  them  confidentially  that  he  would 
attend  to  the  matter  immediately  after  arriving  at 
Willow  Point,  even  if  it  became  necessary  for  him 
to  sell  his  rifle,  the  only  article  of  value  he  owned. 

"Once  across  the  desert,  mother,"  he  said,  as  the 
sorry-looking  team  was  drawn  up  by  the  side  of 
the  pool,  and  he  began  to  unharness  the  horses 
while  his  father  went  in  search  of  game  for  supper, 
"and  then  we  shall  be  well  on  our  way  to  the  old 
home  we  had  no  business  to  leave." 

"It  is  this  portion  of  the  journey  that  worries 


4  DICK  IN   THE  DESERT. 

me  most,  Dick.  You  remember  what  a  hard  time 
we  had  when  the  animals  were  in  good  condition ; 
and  now  that  they  are  hardly  able  to  drag  their 
own  bones  along,  the  danger  is  great." 

"No  more  than  when  we  crossed  the  river;  and 
even  though  father  did  feel  afraid  there,  we  got 
along  all  right,"  was  the  cheerful  reply.  "There 
should  be  plenty  of  game  here,  and  after  a  square 
feed  things  won't  look  so  bad." 

Mrs.  Stevens  turned  wearily  away  to  make  prep- 
arations for  the  evening  meal  in  case  the  hunter 
should  bring  in  a  supply  of  meat,  but  made  no 
reply.  She  understood  why  young  Dick  spoke 
encouragingly,  and  felt  j)roud  that  the  boy  dis- 
played so  much  tenderness  for  her;  yet  the  fact 
could  not  be  disguised  that  dangers  beset  the  little 
party  on  every  hand. 

It  required  but  a  small  amount  of  labor  in  order 
to  make  ready  for  the  night. 

Tired  as  the  horses  were,  there  was  no  likelihood 
of  their  straying  very  far;  and  Dick  simply  re- 
moved the  harness,  allowing  the  animals  to  roam 
at  will.  The  wagon  served  as  a  camp;  and  the 
most  arduous  task  was  that  of  gathering  materials 
with  which  to  make  a  fire,  when  nothing  larger 
than  a  bush  could  be  seen  on  either  hand. 

Then  there  was  no  more  to  be  done  save  await 


DICK'S  DADDY.  5 

the  return  of  the  hunter,  and  it  was  not  until  the 
shadows  began  to  lengthen  into  the  gloom  of  night 
that  young  Dick  felt  seriously  alarmed. 

He  knew  his  father  would  not  have  gone  very 
far  from  the  camp  in  search  of  game,  because  he 
was  on  foot,  and  there  was  no  more  promising 
place  for  sport  than  within  the  radius  of  a  mile 
from  where  they  had  halted.  Besides,  when  hunt- 
ing took  the  form  of  labor  which  must  be  per- 
formed, Richard  Stevens  was  not  one  who  would 
continue  it  long,  unless  he  was  remarkably  hungry. 

Young  Dick's  mother  gave  words  to  her  anxiety 
several  times ;  but  the  boy  argued  with  her  that  no 
harm  could  have  befallen  the  absent  one  in  that 
vicinity,  and  for  a  time  her  fears  were  allayed. 

When  another  hour  passed,  however,  and  noth- 
ing was  heard  from  his  father,  even  Dick  lost  cour- 
age, and  believed  that  the  culminating  point  in 
their  troubles  had  been  reached. 

His  mother  and  Margie  had  entered  the  wagon 
when  night  was  fully  come,  knowing  they  must  go 
supperless  to  bed  unless  the  hunter  returned ;  and 
to  Dick  the  thought  that  these  two  whom  he  loved 
so  dearly  were  hungry,  brought  him  almost  as  much 
sorrow  as  the  unaccountable  absence  of  his  father. 

He  believed,  however,  that  it  was  his  duty  to 
appear  unconcerned,   as  if   confident   his   father's 


b  DICK  IN   THE  DESERT. 

prolonged  absence  did  not  betoken  danger.  He 
trudged  to  and  fro  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the 
vehicle,  at  times  whistling  cheerily  to  show  there 
was  no  trouble  on  his  mind ;  and  again,  when  it 
was  impossible  to  continue  the  melody  because  of 
the  sorrow  in  his  heart,  repeated  to  his  mother 
that  nothing  serious  could  have  befallen  the  absent 
one,  that  probably  he  had  unconsciously  wandered 
a  long  distance  from  the  camp  on  the  trail  of  game. 

"  It  don't  stand  to  reason  he  will  try  to  make 
his  way  now  it  is  dark,  mother  dear;  but  within 
an  hour  or  two  after  sunrise  he'll  be  here,  and  the 
breakfast  we  shall  then  have  will  make  up  for  the 
loss  of  supper." 

Mrs.  Stevens  made  no  reply;  and  listening  a 
moment,  Dick  heard  the  sound  of  suppressed  sobs. 

His  mother  was  in  distress,  and  he  could  do  no 
more  toward  comforting  her  than  repeat  what  he 
did  not  absolutely  believe. 

He  knew  full  well  that  unless  some  accident  had 
befallen  him,  his  father  would  have  returned  before 
dark;  that  he  would  not  have  allowed  himself  to 
be  led  so  far  away  from  the  camping-place  that  he 
could  not  readily  return ;  and  the  boy's  sorrow  was 
all  the  greater  because  it  was  impossible  to  console 
his  mother. 

Clambering  into  the  wagon,   he  put  his    arms 


DICE'S  DADDY.  7 

around  her  neck,  pressing  his  cheek  close  against 
hers,  and  during  what  seemed  a  very  long  while 
the  two  remained  silent,  not  daring  to  give  words 
to  their  fears. 

Then  Dick  bethought  himself  of  a  plan  which 
offered  some  slight  degree  of  hope,  and  starting  up 
suddenly,  said,  — 

"  I  ought  to  have  done  it  before,  an'  it  ain't  too 
late  now." 

"Done  what,  Dick  dear?" 

"Gone  out  in  the  direction  father  took,  and  fired 
the  rifle  two  or  three  times.  It  may  be  he  has  lost 
his  bearings,  and  the  report  of  the  gun  would  be 
enough  to  let  him  know  where  we  are." 

"But  you  must  not  go  now  that  it  is  dark,  my 
boy.  Suppose  you  should  lose  your  way?  Then 
what  would  become  of  Margie  and  me?" 

"There's  no  danger  of  that,  mother.  I've  been 
in  the  woods  often  enough  to  be  able  to  take  care 
of  myself,  surely." 

"Your  father  would  have  said  the  same  thing 
when  he  set  out;  but  yet  we  know  some  accident 
must  have  befallen  him." 

"Let  me  go  only  a  little  way,  mother." 

"  Of  what  avail  would  that  be,  my  son  ?  If  the 
purpose  is  to  discharge  your  rifle,  hoping  father 
may  hear  the  report,  why  not  do  it  here?" 


8  DICK  IN  THE  DESERT. 

"I  will,  if  you  won't  let  me  go  farther." 

"I  can't,  Dick  dear.  I  might  be  braver  under 
other  circumstances,  but  now  the  thought  of  your 
leaving  me  is  more  than  I  can  bear." 

"I  won't  go  so  far  but  that  I  can  see  the 
wagon,"  Dick  said,  kissing  his  mother  and  little 
Margie  much  as  though  bidding  them  good-by; 
and  a  few  moments  later  the  report  of  his  rifle 
almost  startled  the  occupants  of  the  wagon. 

During  the  next  hour  Dick  discharged  his  weapon 
at  least  twelve  times,  but  there  was  no  reply  of 
whatsoever  nature. 

If  his  father  was  alive  and  within  hearing,  he  was 
too  badly  disabled  to  give  token  of  his  whereabouts. 

The  supply  of  cartridges  was  not  so  large  that 
very  many  could  be  used  without  making  a  serious 
inroad  upon  the  store;  and  realizing  the  useless- 
ness  of  further  efforts  in  this  direction,  Dick  went 
back  to  the  wagon. 

Margie  had  fallen  asleep,  her  head  pillowed  in 
her  mother's  lap;  and  Mrs.  Stevens,  unwilling  to 
disturb  the  child,  was  taking  such  rest  as  was  pos- 
sible while  she  leaned  against  the  canvas  covering 
of  the  wagon. 

Dick  seated  himself  beside  her.  It  was  not  ne- 
cessary he  should  speak  of  his  failure,  for  she  knew 
that  already. 


DICK'S  BADDY.  9 

He  had  thought  it  his  duty  to  join  her  for  a  few 
moments,  and  then  go  outside  again  to  act  the  part 
of  sentinel,  although  such  labor  could  be  of  little 
avail ;  but  before  he  had  been  nestling  by  her  side 
five  minutes  his  eyes  were  closed  in  slumber ;  and 
the  mother,  her  mind  reaching  out  to  the  absent 
father,  spent  the  hours  of  the  night  in  wakefulness, 
watching  over  her  children. 

The  sun  had  risen  before  Dick's  eyes  were  opened; 
and  springing  to  his  feet  quickly,  ashamed  of  hav- 
ing slept  while  his  mother  kept  guard,  he  said,  — 

"  I  didn't  mean  to  hang  on  here  like  a  baby  while 
you  were  awake,  mother,  but  my  eyes  shut  before 
I  knew  it." 

"  It  is  well  you  rested,  my  son.  Nothing  could 
have  been  done  had  you  remained  awake." 

"  Perhaps  not ;  but  I  should  have  felt  better,  be- 
cause if  anything  has  happened  to  father,  though  I 
don't  say  it  can  be  possible,  I'm  the  one  who  must 
take  care  of  you  and  Margie." 

Mrs.  Stevens  kissed  the  boy,  not  daring  to  trust 
herself  to  speak ;  and  he  hurried  out,  for  there  was 
before  him  a  full  day's  work,  if  he  would  do  that 
which  he  had  decided  upon  in  his  mind  the  evening 
previous. 

There  was  no  reasonable  hope  any  one  would 
come  that  way  for  many  days  —  perhaps  months. 


10  DICK  IN   THE  DESERT. 

They  were  alone,  and  whatever  was  done  must 
be  accomplished  by  this  thirteen-year-old  boy. 

"I'm  going  after  something  for  breakfast,  mother, 
and  then  count  on  trying  to  follow  fa^^her's  trail," 
Dick  said,  after  looking  around  in  every  direction, 
even  though  he  knew  there  was  no  possibility  of 
seeing  any  human  being. 

"  There  is  no  reason  why  you  should  spend  the 
time  in  trying  to  get  food  for  us,  Dick  dear.  Mar- 
gie and  I  can  get  on  very  well  without  breakfast, 
and  you  will  have  the  more  time  to  hunt  for  your 
father ;  but  remember,  my  boy,  that  you  are  the 
only  one  we  can  depend  upon  now,  and  without  you 
we  might  remain  here  until  we  starved." 

"  I'll  take  good  care  not  to  go  so  far  from  the 
wagon  but  that  I  can  find  my  way  back ;  for  surely 
I'll  be  able  to  follow  on  my  own  trail,  if  there's  no 
other.     Hadn't  I  better  do  a  little  hunting  first  ?" 

"  Not  unless  you  are  very,  very  hungry,  Dick. 
Food  would  choke  me  just  now,  and  there  is  enough 
of  the  bread  we  baked  yesterday  morning  to  give 
you  and  Margie  an  apology  for  a  breakfast." 

"  I  can  get  along  without ;  you  shall  eat  my 
share.  Now,  don't  worry  if  I'm  not  back  until  near 
sunset.  The  horses  are  close  at  hand,  and  you  may 
be  certain  they  won't  stray  while  the  feed  is  plenti- 
ful.    Stay  in  the  wagon,  even  though  there  is  noth- 


DICK'S  DADDY.  11 

ing  to  harm  you  if  you  walk  around.  We  must  be 
careful  that  no  more  trouble  comes  upon  us;  so 
keep  under  cover,  mother  dear,  and  I'll  be  here 
again  before  night  comes." 

Dick  was  not  as  confident  he  could  follow  his 
father's  trail  as  he  would  have  it  appear  to  his 
mother ;  but  he  decided  upon  the  direction  in  whi(3h 
he  would  search,  and  set  bravely  out  heading  due 
west,  knowing  he  could  hold  such  a  course  by  aid 
of  the  sun's  position,  as  his  father  had  often  ex- 
plained to  him. 

Dick  was  hungry,  but  scorned  to  let  his  mother 
know  it,  and  tried  to  dull  the  edge  of  his  appetite 
by  chewing  twigs  and  blades  of  grass. 

After  walking  rapidly  ten  minutes,  more  careful 
as  to  direction  than  he  ever  had  been,  because  of  the 
responsibility  that  rested  upon  him,  he  stopped  and 
shouted  his  father's  name ;  then  listened,  hopmg  to 
hear  a  reply. 

Save  for  the  hum  of  insect  life,  no  sound  came 
to  his  anxious  ears. 

Once  more  he  pressed  forward,  and  again  shouted, 
but  without  avail. 

He  continued  on  until,  seeing  the  trail  made  by 
the  wagon  when  they  had  come  in  from  the  stream, 
he  knew  he  was  very  near  to  the  border  of  the 
valley. 


12  DICK  IN   THE  DESERT. 

Surely  his  father  would  not  have  gone  outside, 
because  he  had  said  before  they  arrived  that  only 
in  the  Buffalo  Meadows  were  they  likely  to  find 
game. 

Then  Dick  turned,  pushing  on  in  a  northerly 
direction  at  right  angles  with  the  course  he  had 
just  been  pursuing,  and  halting  at  five-minute  in- 
tervals to  shout. 

His  anxiety  and  hunger  increased  equally  as  the 
day  grew  older.  Try  as  he  might,  he  could  not 
keep  the  tears  from  over-running  his  eyelids. 

The  sun  was  sinking  toward  the  west  before  he 
heard  aught  of  human  voice  save  his  own  ;  and  then 
a  cry  of  joy  and  relief  burst  from  his  lips  as  he 
heard  faintly  in  the  distance  his  own  name  spoken. 

'[  I'm  coming !  I'm  coming  !  "  he  cried  at  the 
full  strength  of  his  lungs,  as  he  dashed  forward, 
exultant  in  the  thought  that  his  father  was  alive, 
for  he  had  begun  to  believe  that  he  would  never 
see  him  again  in  this  world. 

Mr.  Stevens  continued  to  call  out  now  and  then 
to  guide  the  boy  on  the  way,  and  as  he  drew  nearer 
Dick  understood  from  the  quavering  tones  that  his 
father  was  in  agony. 

"I'm  coming,  daddy !  I'm  coming! "  he  shouted 
yet  louder,  as  if  believing  it  was  necessary  to  ani- 
mate the  sufferer,  for  he  now  knew  that  some  pain- 


DICK'S   BADDY.  13 

ful  accident  had  befallen  his  father ;  and  when  he 
finally  ended  the  search  his  heart  literally  ceased 
beating  because  of  his  terror  and  dismay. 

Dick  believed  he  had  anticipated  the  worst,  but 
yet  was  unprepared  for  that  which  he  saw. 

Lying  amid  the  blood-stained  sage-grass,  his  shirt 
stripped  into  bandages  to  tie  up  a  grievously  injured 
limb,  lay  "  Roving  Dick,"  his  face  pallid,  his  lips 
bloodless,  and  his  general  appearance  that  of  one 
whom  death  has  nearly  overtaken. 

" Daddy!  daddy!  "  Dick  cried  piteously,  and  then 
he  understood  that  consciousness  had  deserted  the 
wounded  man. 

He  had  retained  possession  of  his  faculties  until 
aid  was  near  at  hand,  and  then  the  long  strain  of 
physical  and  mental  agony  had  brought  about  a 
collapse. 

Dick  raised  his  father's  head  tenderly,  imploring 
him  to  speak  —  to  tell  him  what  should  be  done; 
but  the  injured  man  remained  silent  as  if  death  had 
interposed  to  give  him  relief. 

Looking  about  scrutinizingly,  as  those  born  and 
bred  on  the  frontier  learn  to  do  early  in  life,  Dick 
saw  his  father's  rifle  twenty  feet  or  more  away, 
and  between  it  and  him  a  trail  of  blood  through 
the  sage-brush,  then  a  sinister,  crimson  blotch  on 
the  sand. 


14  DICK  IN  THE  DESEBT. 

Mr.  Stevens's  right  leg  was  the  injured  member, 
and  it  had  been  wrapped  so  tightly  with  the  impro- 
vised bandages  that  the  boy  could  form  no  idea  as 
to  the  extent  of  the  wound ;  but  he  knew  it  must 
indeed  be  serious  to  overcome  so  thoroughly  one 
who,  though  indolent  by  nature,  had  undergone 
much  more  severe  suffering  than  he  could  have 
known  since  the  time  of  leaving  the  wagon  to 
search  for  game. 

It  seemed  to  Dick  as  if  more  than  ten  minutes 
elapsed  before  his  father  spoke,  and  then  it  was  to 
ask  for  water. 

He  might  as  well  have  begged  for  gold,  so  far  as 
Dick's  ability  to  gratify  the  desire  was  concerned. 

"  To  get  any,  daddy,  I  may  have  to  go  way  back 
to  the  wagon,  for  I  haven't  come  upon  a  single 
watercourse  since  leaving  camp  this  morning." 

"  Your  mother  and  Margie  ?  " 

"I  left  them  at  the  camp.  How  did  you  get 
here  ?  " 

"  It  was  just  before  nightfall.  I  had  been  stalk- 
ing an  antelojDc;  was  crawling  on  the  ground  drag- 
ging my  rifle,  when  the  hammer  must  have  caught 
amid  the  sage-brush  ;  the  weapon  was  discharged, 
and  the  bone  of  my  leg  appears  to  be  shattered." 

"  Poor,  poor  daddy !  "  and  Dick  kissed  him  on 
the  forehead. 


DICK'S  DADDY.  15 

"We  must  be  four  miles  from  the  camp,"  Mr. 
Stevens  said,  speaking  with  difficulty  because  of 
his  parched  and  swollen  tongue. 

"  I  should  say  so ;  but  I  went  toward  the  west, 
and  after  travelling  until  noon  struck  across  this 
way,  so  have  no  idea  of  the  distance." 

"  I  shall  die  for  lack  of  water,  Dick,  even  though 
the  wound  does  not  kill  me." 

"How  shall  I  get  it,  daddy?"  the  boy  cried 
piteously.  "I  can't  leave  you  here  alone,  and  I 
don't  believe  there's  a  drop  nearer  than  where  we 
are  camped." 

"  You  must  leave  me,  Dick ;  for  you  can  do  no 
good  while  staying  here,  and  the  thought  that  help 
is  coming,  even  though  there  may  be  many  hours 
to  wait,  will  give  me  strength.  Can  you  find  your 
w^ay  to  the  camp  and  back  after  nightfall?" 

"  I'll  do  it  somehow,  daddy !     I'll  do  it ! " 

"  Then  set  out  at  once,  and  bring  one  of  the 
horses  back  with  you.  I  should  be  able  to  ride  four 
miles,  or  even  twice  that  distance,  since  it  is  to 
save  my  life." 

"  But  you'll  keep  up  a  brave  heart,  daddy  dear, 
won't  you  ?  Don't  think  you  are  going  to  die;  but 
remember  that  mother  and  I,  and  even  little 
Margie,  will  do  all  we  can  to  pull  you  through." 

"I  know  it,  Dick,  I  know  it.     You  are  a  good 


16  DICK  IN   THE  DESERT. 

lad  —  far  oetter  than  I  have  been  father;  and  if 
it  should  chance  that  when  you  come  back  I've 
gone  from  this  world,  remember  that  you  are  the 
only  one  to  whom  the  mother  and  baby  can  look 
for  protection." 

"You  know  I'd  always  take  care  of  them;  but 
I  am  going  to  save  you,  daddy  dear.  People  have 
gotten  over  worse  wounds  than  this,  and  once  you 
are  at  the  camp  we  will  stay  in  Buffalo  Meadows 
till  it  is  possible  for  you  to  ride.  I'll  look  out  for 
the  whole  outfit,  and  from  this  on  you  sha'n't  have 
a  trouble,  except  because  of  the  wound." 

"  Give  me  your  hand,  my  boy,  and  now  go  ; 
for  strong  as  may  be  my  will,  I  can't  stand  the  loss 
of  much  more  blood.  God  bless  you,  Dick,  and 
remember  that  I  always  loved  you,  even  though 
I  never  provided  for  you  as  a  father  should  have 
done." 

Dick  hastily  cleared  the  mist  from  his  eyes,  and 
without  speaking  darted  forward  in  the  direction 
where  he  believed  the  w^agon  would  be  found,  break- 
ing the  sage-brush  as  he  ran  in  order  that  he  might 
make  plain  the  trail  over  which  he  must  return. 


A  LONELY   VIGIL.  17 


CHAPTER   II. 

A    LONELY    VIGIL. 

|T  was  not  yet  dark  when  Dick  arrived 
within  sight  of  the  wagon,  and  shouted 
cheerily  that  those  who  were  so  anx- 
iously awaiting  his  coming  might  know 
he  had  been  fortunate  in  the  search. 

As  soon  as  his  voice  rang  out,  startlingly  loud 
because  of  the  almost  oppressive  stillness,  Mrs. 
Stevens  appeared  from  beneath  the  flap  of  the  can- 
vas covering,  and  an  expression  of  most  intense 
disappointment  passed  over  her  face  as  she  saw 
that  Dick  was  alone. 

"It's  all  right,  mother!"  he  cried,  quickening 
his  pace  that  she  might  the  sooner  be  relieved  from 
her  suspense.     "It's  all  right !  " 

"  Did  you  find  your  father  ?" 

"  Yes ;  an'  I've  come  back  for  one  of  the  horses. 
He's  been  hurt,  an'  can't  walk." 

"Thank  God  he  is  alive!"  she  cried,  and  then 
for  the  first  time  since  the  previous  evening  she 
gave  way  to  tears. 


18  DICK  IN   THE  DESERT. 

Dick  did  all  he  could  toward  comforting  her 
without  making  any  delay  in  setting  out  on  the 
return  joiu*ney. 

While  he  filled  the  canteen  with  fresh  water  he 
repeated  what  his  father  had  bidden  him  to  say; 
and  when  his  mother  asked  concerning  the  wound, 
he  spoke  as  if  he  did  not  consider  it  serious. 

"  Of  course  it's  bad,  for  he  thinks  one  of  the 
bones  has  been  splintered ;  but  I  don't  see  why 
he  shouldn't  come  'round  all  right  after  a  spell. 
We've  known  of  people  who  had  worse  hurts  and 
yet  got  well." 

"  But  they  were  where  at  least  something  of 
what  might  be  needed  could  be  procured,  while  we 
are  here  in  the  desert." 

"Not  quite  so  bad  as  that,  mother  dear.  We 
have  water,  and  I  should  be  able  to  get  food  in 
plenty.  After  I've  supplied  the  camp,  I'm  goin'  on 
foot  to  Antelope  Spring,  where  we  can  buy  what- 
ever daddy  may  need." 

"  Across  the  desert  alone  !  " 

"  A  boy  like  me  ought  to  be  able  to  do  it,  and  "  — 

"  Your  father  hasn't  a  penny,  Dick  dear." 

"  I  know  that,  mother ;  but  I'll  sell  my  rifle  be- 
fore he  shall  suffer  for  anything.  Now  don't  worry, 
and  keep  up  a  good  heart  till  I  come  back." 

"  Can't  I  be  of  some  assistance  if  I  go  too  ?  " 


A   LONELY   VIGIL,  19 

"You'd  better  stay  here  with  Margie.  Father 
and  I  can  manage  it  alone,  I  reckon." 

Then  Dick  set  about  catching  one  of  the 
horses;  and  as  he  rode  the  sorry-looking  steed  up 
to  the  wagon,  his  mother  gave  him  such  articles 
from  her  scanty  store  as  the  wounded  man  might 
need. 

"You're  a  good  boy,  Dick,"  she  said,  as  he 
stooped  over  to  kiss  her ;  "  and  some  day  you  shall 
have  your  reward." 

"I'll  get  it  now,  mother,  if  I  see  you  looking  a 
little  more  jolly;  and  indeed  things  ain't  quite  so 
bad  as  they  seem,  for  I  can  pull  our  little  gang 
through  in  great  shape,  though  I'm  afraid  after  it's 
been  done  I  sha'n't  be  able  to  get  you  and  Margie 
the  new  outfit  I  promised." 

"  We  should  be  so  thankful  your  father  is  alive 
as  not  to  realize  that  we  need  anything  else." 

"  But  you  do,  just  the  same,  whether  you  realize 
it  or  not;  an'  I'll  attend  to  everything  if  I  have 
time  enough.  Don't  trouble  yourself  if  we're  not 
back  much  before  morning,  for  I  reckon  daddy 
can't  stand  it  to  ride  faster  than  a  walk." 

Then,  without  daring  to  stop  longer,  lest  he 
should  betray  some  sign  of  weakness,  Dick  rode 
away,  waving  his  hand  to  Margie,  who  was  look- 
ing out  of  the  rear  end  of  the  wagon,  but  giving 


20  DICK  IN  THE  DESERT. 

vent  to  a  sigh  wliich  was  almost  a  sob  when  they 
could  no  longer  see  hhn. 

Young  though  he  was,  Dick  understood  full  well 
all  the  dangers  which  menaced.  Although  he  had 
spoken  so  confidently  of  being  able  to  "  pull  the 
gang  through/'  he  knew  what  perils  were  before 
them  during  the  journey  across  the  desert ;  and  it 
must  be  made  within  a  reasonably  short  time, 
otherwise  they  might  be  overtaken  by  the  winter 
storms  before  arriving  at  their  old  home. 

The  beast  he  rode,  worn  by  long  travelling  and 
scanty  fare,  could  not  be  forced  to  a  rapid  pace; 
and  when  night  came  Dick  was  hardly  more  than 
two  miles  from  the  wagon. 

He  could  have  walked  twice  the  distance  in  that 
time;  but  the  delay  was  unavoidable,  since  only  on 
the  horse*  s  back  could  his  father  be  brought  into 
camp. 

When  it  was  so  dark  that  he  could  not  see  the 
broken  sage-brush  which  marked  the  trail,  it  was 
necessary  he  should  dismount,  and  proceed  even  at 
a  slower  pace ;  but  he  continued  to  press  forward 
steadily,  even  though  slowly,  until,  when  it  seemed 
to  him  that  the  night  was  well-nigh  spent,  he  heard 
a  sound  as  of  moaning  a  short  distance  in  advance. 

"I've  come  at  last,  daddy.  It's  been  a  terrible 
long  while,  I  know;  but  it  was  the  best  I  could"  — 


A   LONELY   VIGIL.  21 

He  ceased  speaking  very  suddenly  as  he  stood 
by  the  side  of  the  sufferer,  whom  he  could  dimly 
see  by  the  faint  light  of  the  stars. 

From  the  broken  and  uprooted  sage-brush  around 
him,  it  was  evident  the  wounded  man  had,  most 
likely  while  in  a  delirium  of  fever,  attempted  to 
drag  himself  on  in  the  direction  of  the  camp,  and 
had  ceased  such  poor  efforts  only  when  completely 
exhausted. 

He  was  lying  on  his  back,  looking  straight  up  at 
the  sky  as  he  alternately  moaned  and  talked  at 
random,  with  now  and  then  a  mirthless  laugh 
which  frightened  the  boy. 

"Don't,  daddy,  don't!"  he  begged,  as  he  raised 
the  sufferer's  head.  "  See,  it's  Dick  come  back  ; 
and  now  you  can  ride  into  camp ! " 

"  Mother  is  dying  of  thirst,  and  I'm  —  see  that 
stream !  Come,  boys,  we'll  take  a  header  into  it  — 
I'm  on  fire  —  fire  !  " 

Frightened  though  he  was,  Dick  knew  water 
was  the  one  thing  his  father  most  needed ;  and  lay- 
ing the  poor  head  gently  back  on  the  sand,  he  took 
the  canteen  from  a  bag  which  had  served  instead  of 
a  saddle. 

"Drink  this,  daddy,  and  you'll  feel  better,"  he 
said  coaxingly,  much  as  if  speaking  to  a  child. 

The  wounded  man  seized  the  tin  vessel  eagerly. 


22  DICK  IN   THE  DESERT. 

and  it  required  all  Dick's  strength  to  prevent  him 
from  draining  it  at  once. 

"  I'm  afraid  to  give  you  more  now,  my  poor  old 
man ;  but  wait,  like  a  dear,  and  I'll  let  you  take 
it  again  when  you're  on  the  horse." 

Not  until  after  a  violent  struggle,  which  fright- 
ened Dick  because  it  seemed  almost  as  if  he  was 
raising  his  hand  against  his  father,  did  he  regain 
possession  of  the  canteen,  and  then  a  full  half  of 
the  contents  had  been  consumed. 

When  his  thirst  was  in  a  measure  quenched,  Mr. 
Stevens  lay  quietly  on  the  sand,  save  now  and  then 
as  he  moaned  in  unconscious  agony,  heeding  not 
the  boy's  pleading  words. 

"  Try  to  help  yourself  a  bit,  daddy,"  he  urged. 
"  If  you'll  stand  on  one  foot  I  can  manage  to  lift 
you  onto  the  horse's  back." 

Again  and  again  did  Dick  try  by  words  to  per- 
suade his  father  to  do  as  he  desired,  and  then  he 
realized  how  useless  were  his  efforts. 

He  had  heard  of  this  delirium  which  often  fol- 
lows neglect  of  gun-shot  wounds,  but  had  no  idea 
how  he  should  set  about  checking  it. 

After  understanding  that  words  were  useless, 
and  knowing  full  well  he  could  not  lift  unaided 
such  a  weight  onto  the  horse's  back,  he  crouched 
by  his  father's  side  m  helpless  grief. 


A   LONELY   VIGIL.  23 

Never  before  had  he  known  what  it  was  to  be 
afraid,  however  far  he  might  be  from  others  of  his 
kind ;  but  now,  as  he  Hstened  to  the  meaningless 
words,  or  the  piteous  moans,  terror  took  possession 
of  him,  and  the  soft  sighing  of  the  gentle  wind 
sounded  in  his  ears  like  a  menace. 

The  horse  strayed  here  and  there  seeking  food, 
but  he  gave  no  heed. 

Such  garments  as  his  mother  had  given  him, 
Dick  spread  over  the  sufferer ;  and  that  done  there 
was  nothing  for  him  save  to  wait. 

It  seemed  to  the  anxious  boy  as  if  the  night 
would  never  end.  Now  and  then  he  rose  to  his 
feet,  scanning  the  eastern  sky  in  the  hope  of  seeing 
some  signs  of  coming  dawn;  but  the  light  of  the 
stars  had  not  faded,  and  he  knew  the  morning  was 
yet  far  away. 

Finally,  when  it  seemed  to  him  as  if  he  could 
no  longer  remain  idle  listening  to  a  strong  man's 
childish  prattle,  the  eastern  heavens  were  lighted 
by  a  dull  glow,  which  increased  steadily  until  he 
could  see  the  horse  feeding  on  the  dry  bunch-grass 
an  hundred  yards  away,  and  his  long  vigil  was 
nearly  at  an  end. 

His  father  called  for  water  from  time  to  time, 
and  Dick  had  given  him  to  drink  from  the  canteen 
till  no  more  than  a  cupful  remained. 


24  DICK  IN   THE  DESERT. 

Now  he  asked  again,  but  in  a  voice  which 
sounded  more  familiar ;  and  a  great  hope  sprang  up 
in  the  boy's  heart  as  he  said, — 

"There's  only  a  little  left,  you  poor  old  man, 
and  we  can't  get  more  this  side  the  camp.  Shall 
I  give  it  to  you  now?" 

"  Let  me  moisten  my  lips,  Dick  dear.  They  are 
parched,  and  my  tongue  is  swollen  until  it  seems 
ready  to  burst." 

Dick  handed  him  the  canteen;  and  his  father 
drank  sparingly,  in  marked  contrast  to  his  greedy 
swallowing  of  a  few  moments  previous. 

"  It  tastes  sweet,  my  boy ;  and  when  we  are  at 
the  camp  I'll  need  only  to  look  at  the  brook  in 
order  to  get  relief.  Are  you  soon  going  for  the 
horse  ?  " 

I  went,  an'  have  got  back,  daddy  dear.  You've 
been  talking  mighty  queer  —  on  account  of  the 
wound,  I  suppose." 

"How  long  have  you  been  with  me,  child?" 

"I  must  have  got  here  before  midnight,  and  the 
morning  is  just  coming  now." 

"You're  a  good  boy,  Dick." 

"That's  what  mother  said  before  I  left,  and  be- 
tween the  two  of  you  I'm  afraid  you'll  make  me 
out  way  beyond  what  I  deserve.  We  must  get 
back  as  soon  as  we  can,  you  poor  old  man;  for 


A   LONELY   VIGIL.  25 

she'll  be  crying  her  eyes  sore  with  thinking  we've 
both  knocked  under.  Will  we  have  a  try  at  get- 
ting on  horseback  ? " 

"  Yes ;  and  I  reckon  it  can  be  done.  Lead  the 
beast  up  here,  and  then  help  me  on  my  feet  —  I've 
grown  as  weak  as  a  baby,  Dick." 

"  And  I  don't  wonder  at  it.  According  to  the 
looks  of  this  sage-brush  you  must  have  lost  half  of 
all  the  blood  you  had  at  this  time  yesterday." 

Now  that  his  father  was  conscious  once  more, 
all  Dick's  reasonless  terror  fled,  and  again  he  was 
the  manly  fellow  he  had  always  shown  himself 
to  be. 

The  horse  was  led  to  Mr.  Stevens's  side ;  and  Dick 
raised  the  nearly  powerless  body  until,  at  the  ex- 
pense of  most  severe  pain,  but  without  sign  of  it 
by  even  so  much  as  a  groan,  his  father  stood  on  the 
uninjured  limb. 

Fortunately  the  horse  was  too  weary  to  make 
much  protest  at  what  followed ;  with  a  restive  steed 
it  would  have  been  impossible  for  the  boy  to  half 
lift,  half  push  his  father  up  until  he  was  seated  on 
the  bag  that  served  as  saddle. 

"  How  is  it  now,  you  poor  old  man  ?  Can  you 
hold  on  there  a  couple  of  hours? " 

"  I  must,  my  boy ;  and  if  it  so  be  I  show  signs 
of  losing  my  reason  again,  you  must  contrive  to 


26  BICK  IN  THE  DESERT. 

lash  me  here,  for  unless  this  wound  is  attended  to  in 
better  shape  than  it  is  just  now,  I'll  go  under.'^ 

"  For  mother's  sake  you  must  keep  a  good  grip 
on  yourself.  It'll  come  tough,  I  know ;  but  once 
we're  in  camp  you  shall  live  on  the  fat  of  the 
land." 

Dick  took  up  his  father's  rifle,  —  his  own  he  had 
left  in  the  wagon  when  he  went  after  the  horse,  — 
and,  leading  the  animal  by  the  bridle,  marched  on, 
glancing  back  every  few  seconds  to  learn  how  the 
rider  was  faring. 

Although  he  struggled  to  repress  any  evidence 
of  pain,  Mr.  Stevens  could  not  prevent  the  agony 
from  being  apparent  on  his  face ;  and  Dick,  who 
had  neither  eaten  nor  slept  during  the  past  twenty- 
four  hours,  did  all  a  boy  could  have  done  to  cheer 
the  sufferer,  without  thought  of  his  own  necessities. 

"  We'll  soon  be  in  camp,  daddy,  when  you're  to 
have  everything  you  need,"  he  said  from  time  to 
time;  and  then,  fancying  this  was  not  sufficient 
encouragement,  he  finally  added,  "you  know  I'm 
going  over  to  Antelope  Spring  to  get  some  doctor's 
stuff  as  soon  as  I've  found  game  enough  to  keep 
the  camp  supplied  while  I'm  away." 

"  Antelope  Spring !  "  Mr.  Stevens  cried,  aroused 
from  his  suffering  for  an  instant  by  the  bold  asser- 
tion.    "  You  shall  never  do  it,  Dick,  not  if  I  had 


A  LONELY  VIGIL.  27 

twenty  wounds !  It's  as  much  as  a  man's  life  is 
worth  to  cross  the  desert  on  foot,  and  these  horses 
of  ours  are  worse  than  none  at  all." 

"  By  the  time  we've  been  in  camp  a  couple  of 
weeks  where  the  feed  is  good,  they'll  pick  up  in 
great  shape,  and  be  fit  to  haul  the  old  wagon  home. 
Won't  it  be  prime  to  see  the  town  once  more  ?  And 
there'll  be  no  more  hunting  'round  for  a  place 
where  we  can  get  a  livin'  easy,  eh,  daddy  ?  " 

"  No,  Dickey ;  once  we're  there  we'll  stay,  and 
I'm  going  to  turn  over  a  new  leaf  if  my  life  is 
spared.  I'll  do  more  work  and  less  loafing.  But 
you're  not  to  cross  the  desert  alone,  my  boy." 

''  It  may  be  travellers  will  come  our  way,  an'  I 
can  go  with  them,"  Dick  replied,  taking  good  care 
not  to  make  any  promises ;  for  he  understood  from 
what  his  mother  had  said  that  it  would  be  abso- 
lutely necessary  that  aid  should  be  had  from  the 
nearest  settlement. 

Fortunately,  as  it  then  seemed  to  the  boy,  the 
pain  which  his  father  was  enduring  prevented  him 
from  dwelling  upon  the  subject;  and  as  Dick 
trudged  on,  trying  to  force  the  horse  into  a  more 
rapid  gait,  he  turned  over  in  his  mind  all  he  had 
heard  regarding  such  a  journey. 

There  were  many  times  when  it  seemed  certain 
Mr.  Stevens  must  succumb  to  the  suffering  caused 


28  DICK  IN   THE  DESERT. 

by  the  wound ;  but  lie  contrived  to  "  keep  a  good 
grip  "  on  himself,  as  Dick  had  suggested,  and  after 
what  seemed  the  longest  and  most  painful  journey 
the  boy  had  ever  experienced,  the  two  came  upon  ♦ 
landmarks  which  told  they  were  nearing  the  en- 
campment. 

His  father  was  ghastly  pale.  The  big  drops  of 
sweat  on  his  forehead  told  of  intense  pain  ;  and,  in 
order  to  revive  his  courage  yet  a  little  longer,  Dick 
shouted  loudly  to  warn  the  dear  ones  who  were 
waiting. 

"  They'll  soon  come  running  to  meet  us ;  and  you 
must  put  on  a  bold  front,  daddy,  else  mother  will 
think  you're  near  dead.  Hold  hard  a  little  while 
longer,  and  then  we'll  have  you  in  the  wagon,  where 
all  hands  of  us  can  doctor  you  in  great  shape." 

It  is  more  than  probable  that,  had  he  been  alone, 
with  no  one  to  cheer  him,  Mr.  Stevens  might  never 
have  been  able  to  endure  the  agony  which  must  , 
have  been  his.  Thanks  to  Dick's  cheering  words, 
however,  he  not  only  kept  his  seat,  but  remained 
conscious  until  his  wife  and  son  lifted  him  from 
the  horse  to  the  bed  hastily  prepared  in  the  ve- 
hicle. 

Then  nature  asserted  herself;  and  he  speedily 
sank  into  unconsciousness  accompanied  by  delir- 
ium, as  when  Dick  had  watched  by  his  side. 


A  LONELY    VIGIL.  29 

"  He  was  just  that  way  all  night,  and  it  fright- 
ened me,  mother.     What  can  we  do  for  him  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  Dick  dear ;  indeed  I  don't.  Un- 
less he  can  have  proper  attention  death  must  soon 
come,  and  I  am  ignorant  of  such  nursing  as  he 
needs.  If  we  were  only  where  we  could  call  in  a 
doctor !  " 

"  Wouldn't  it  do  almost  as  well  if  we  had  medi- 
cine for  him  ?" 

"  Perhaps  so ;  but  if  we  could  get  such  things  it 
would  also  be  possible  to  at  least  find  out  what  Ave 
should  do." 

"  The  horses  wouldn't  pull  us  across  the  desert 
until  after  they've  rested  a  spell,"  Dick  said  half  to 
himself. 

"  And  even  if  they  could,  we  must  haye  food." 

"  See  here,  mother ;  you  fix  up  daddy's  leg  the 
best  you  know  how,  and  I'll  look  around  for  some- 
thing that'll  fill  the  pot.  There  are  rabbits  here 
in  plenty,  though  it's  mighty  hard  luck  when  you 
have  to  waste  a  cartridge  on  each  one.  I'll  have 
enough  in  the  way  of  meat  by  the  time  you've 
washed  the  wound.  I've  heard  the  poor  old  man 
himself  say  that  plenty  of  cool  water  was  needed 
on  a  bullet-hole." 

Mrs.  Stevens  could  not  be  hopeful  under  the  cir- 
cumstances, for  she  knew  better  than  did  Dick  how 


30  DICK  IN   THE  DESERT. 

slight  was  the  chance  that  the  injured  man  could 
live  where  it  was  impossible  to  care  properly  for 
the  wound ;  but  she  would  not  deprive  the  boy  of 
hope,  and  turned  to  do  as  he  suggested. 

Although  weary  and  footsore,  Dick  did  not  spend 
many  moments  in  camp. 

He  waited  only  long  enough  to  get  his  rifle  and 
ammunition,  and  then  trudged  off;  for  meat  must 
be  had,  even  at  the  expense  of  cartridges,  both  for 
the  wounded  man  and  the  remainder  of  the  family. 

An  hour  later  Dick  returned  with  two  rabbits ; 
and  when  these  had  been  made  ready  for  cooking, 
he  clambered  into  the  wagon  to  see  his  father. 

The  invalid  looked  more  comfortable,  even  though 
nothing  had  been  done  for  his  relief  save  to  cleanse 
the  wound,  and  dress  it  in  such  fashion  as  was  pos- 
sible; but  he  was  still  in  the  delirium,  and  after 
kissing  the  pale  forehead,  Dick  went  to  where  his 
mother  was  making  ready  for  the  long-delayed  meal. 

"  I  don't  reckon  there's  a  bit  of  anything  to  eat, 
mother  ?  " 

"  I  shall  soon  have  these  rabbits  cooked." 

"  But  I  must  be  off  after  larger  game,  and  don't 
want  to  wait  till  dinner  is  ready." 

"You  need  the  food,  Dickey,  and  there  is  only 
a  tiny  bit  of  bread." 

"Give  me  that,  mother  dear.     It  will  stop  the 


A   LONELY   VIGIL.  31 

hole  in  my  stomach  for  a  spell,  and  when  I  come 
back  there'll  be  plenty  of  time  to  eat  meat." 

Had  the  circumstances  been  one  whit  less  grave, 
Mrs.  Stevens  would  not  have  consented  to  his  set- 
ting out  before  having  eaten  a  hearty  meal;  but 
she  knew  that  more  meat  would  soon  be  needed, 
since  they  had  no  other  food,  and  two  rabbits  would 
hardly  provide  the  famishing  ones  with  enough  to 
stay  their  hunger  for  the  time  being. 

The  piece  of  bread,  baked  the  day  previous  from 
the  last  of  their  store  of  flour,  was  brought  out ;  and, 
munching  it  slowly  that  it  might  seem  to  be  more, 
Dick  started  off  again. 

Not  until  nearly  nightfall  did  he  return ;  but  he 
had  with  him  such  portion  of  a  deer's  carcass  as  he 
could  drag,  and  all  fear  of  starvation  was  banished 
from  camp. 

The  wounded  man  was  resting  more  comfortably, 
if  such  term  can  be  applied  properly  when  one  is 
suffering  severest  pain ;  and  after  hanging  the  meat 
beneath  the  wagon,  Dick  questioned  his  mother  as 
to  what  might  be  done  if  they  were  within  reach  of 
a  physician. 

*^If  we  could  see  one,  Dickey,  your  father's  life 
might  be  saved,  for  such  a  wound  should  not  be 
exceedingly  dangerous.  If  I  knew  how  to  treat  it, 
and  had  the  proper  washes,  we  ought  to  nurse  him 


32  DICK  IN  THE  DESERT. 

back  to  life;  but  as  it  is,  I  haven't  even  that  which 
would  check  the  fever." 

"If  you  could  talk  to  a  doctor  would  it  be  all 
right?" 

"I  believe  so,  Dickey." 

"  Would  the  medecine  you  want  cost  very  much  ?  " 

"  It  is  the  same  to  us  whether  the  price  be  much 
or  little,  since  we  haven't  the  opportunity  to  get 
what  is  needed,  nor  the  money  with  which  to  pay 
for  it  if  a  shop  were  near  at  hand." 

Dick  ceased  his  questioning,  and  set  about  per- 
forming such  work  around  the  camp  as  might  well 
have  been  left  undone  until  the  next  day. 

A  generous  supply  of  broiled  venison  was  made 
ready,  and  the  boy  ate  heartily ;  after  which  he  went 
into  the  wagon,  telling  his  mother  he  would  play 
the  part  of  nurse  until  dark,  when  she  could  take 
his  place. 

Once  in  the  vehicle,  partially  screened  from  view, 
Dick,  after  much  search  for  the  bit  of  a  lead-pencil 
his  father  owned,  wrote  on  a  piece  of  brown  paper 
that  had  contained  the  last  ten  pounds  of  flour  Mr. 
Stevens  had  purchased,  the  following  words,  — 

Dear  Mother,  —  I  know  you  won't  let  me  go  to  Antelope 
Spring  if  I  tell  you  about  what  I'm  minded  to  do,  so  I  shall  slip 
off  the  first  thing  in  the  morning.  I'll  take  my  rifle  with  me, 
and  by  selling  it,  get  what  stuff  daddy  needs.     I  can  talk  with  a 


A   LONELY   VIGIL.  33 

doctor  too ;  and  when  I  come  back  we'll  fix  the  poor  old  man  up 
in  great  shape. 

Don't  worry  about  me,  for  I  can  get  across  without  any  bother. 
I'm  going  to  take  the  canteen  and  some  slices  of  meat,  so  I  sha'n't 
be  hungry  or  thirsty.  I  count  on  being  back  in  three  days ;  but 
if  I'm  gone  five  you  mustn't  think  anything  has  gone  wrong,  for 
it  may  be  a  longer  trip  than  I'm  reckonin'  on. 

I  love  you,  and  daddy,  and  Margie  mighty  well ;  and  this  foot- 
ing it  across  the  desert  ain't  half  as  dangerous  as  you  think  for. 

Your  son, 

Dickey. 

When  this  had  been  done,  he  kissed  his  father 
twice,  smoothed  the  hair  back  from  the  pale,  damp 
forehead,  and  whispered,  — 

"  I'm  going  so's  you'll  get  well,  my  poor  old  man ; 
and  you  mustn't  make  any  kick,  'cause  it's  got  to 
be  done." 

Then  he  came  out  as  if  tired  of  playing  the 
nurse,  and  proposed  that  he  sleep  under  the  wagon 
that  night. 

"  With  all  hands  inside,  daddy  would  be  crowded ; 
and  I'm  as  well  off  out-of-doors.  Kiss  me,  mother, 
for  I'm  mighty  tired." 


34  DICK  IN   THE  DESERT. 


CHAPTER  III. 

A   SAND-STORM. 

|N  this  proposal  to  retire  thus  early  Mrs. 
Stevens  saw  nothing  to  excite  her  sus- 
picions regarding  Dick's  real  intentions. 
He  had  worked  for  thirty-six  hours 
almost  incessantly;  and  it  would  not  be  strange  if 
this  unusual  exertion,  together  with  the  weariness 
caused  by  excitement,  had  brought  him  to  the  verge 
of  exhaustion. 

His  mother  would  have  insisted  upon  bringing 
out  one  of  the  well-worn  blankets,  but  that  Dick 
was  decidedly  opposed  to  taking  anything  from  the 
wagon  which  might  in  the  slightest  degree  con- 
tribute to  his  father's  comfort. 

"  I'm  very  well  off  on  the  bare  ground,  and  with 
the  wagon  to  shelter  me  from  the  dew  I  couldn't 
be  better  fixed.  Our  poor  old  man  needs  all  we've 
got,  mother;  and  you  may  be  sure  I  won't  lay 
awake  thinking  of  the  feather-beds  we  had  at 
Willow  Point,  'cause  it's  about  as  much  as  I  can 
do  to  keep  my  eyes  open." 


A   SAND-STORM,  35 

"  You  are  a  dear  good  boy,  and  God  will  reward 
you.  In  addition  to  saving  your  father's  life,  for 
that  is  what  you've  done  this  day,  you  have  light- 
ened my  burden  until  it  would  be  wicked  to  repme." 

"I'll  risk  your  ever  doing  anything  very  wicked, 
mother;  and  if  the  time  comes  when  it  seems  to 
you  as  though  I  don't  do  exactly  as  you  want  me 
to,  just  remember  all  you've  said  about  my  being 
a  good  boy,  an'  let  it  be  a  stand-off,  will  you?" 

"  I  am  certain  you  will  never  do  anything  to 
cause  me  sorrow,  Dickey,  dear.  Don't  get  up  until 
you  have  been  thoroughly  rested;  for  now  that 
we  have  food  in  camp,  I  can  do  all  that  will  be 
necessary." 

Then  Dick's  mother  kissed  him  again,  not  leav- 
ing him  until  he  had  stretched  out  at  full  length 
imder  the  wagon;  and  so  tired  was  the  boy  that 
Mrs.  Stevens  had  hardly  got  back  to  take  up  her 
duties  as  nurse  when  his  loud  breathing  told  that 
he  was  asleep. 

When  Dick  awakened  it  was  still  dark;  but  he 
believed,  because  he  no  longer  felt  extremely  weary, 
that  the  night  was  nearly  spent ;  and  for  the  success 
of  his  plan  it  was  of  the  utmost  importance  he 
should  set  out  before  his  mother  was  astir. 

It  was  his  purpose  to  travel  on  foot  to  Antelope 
Spring,  a  distance  in  an  air-line  of  about  forty-five 


36  DICK  IN   THE  DESERT. 

miles,  fifteen  of  which  would  be  across  the  upper 
portion  of  Smoke  Creek  Desert. 

In  this  waste  of  sand  lay  all  the  danger  of  the 
undertaking.  The  number  of  miles  to  be  travelled 
troubled  him  but  little,  for  more  than  once  had  he 
walked  nearly  as  far  in  a  single  day  while  hunting ; 
and  he  proposed  to  spend  thirty-six  hours  on  each 
stage  of  the  journey. 

Creeping  cautiously  out  from  under  the  wagon, 
he  fastened  his  letter  to  the  flap  of  the  canvas  cov- 
ering in  such  a  manner  that  his  mother  could  not 
fail  to  see  it  when  she  first  came  out ;  and  then  he 
wrapped  in  leaves  several  slices  of  broiled  venison, 
after  which  he  stowed  them  in  his  pocket. 

The  canteen  was  filled  at  a  spring  near-by. 

He  saw  to  it  that  his  ammunition  belt  contained 
no  more  than  half  a  dozen  cartridges,  and  then  took 
up  his  rifle,  handling  it  almost  lovingly ;  for  this, 
his  only  valuable  possession,  he  intended  to  part 
with  in  order  to  secure  what  might  be  necessary 
for  his  father's  relief  and  comfort. 

The  weapon  was  slung  over  his  back  where  it 
would  not  impede  his  movements ;  and  with  a  single 
glance  backward  he  set  out  with  a  long,  swinging 
stride  such  as  he  knew  by  experience  he  could  main- 
tain for  many  hours. 

It  was  still  dark  when  he  had  crossed  the  fertile 


A    SAND-STORM.  37 

meadows,  and  arrived  at  the  border  of  an  appar- 
ently limitless  expanse  of  yellow  sand. 

Here  it  would  not  be  possible  to  maintain  the 
pace  at  which  he  had  started,  because  of  the  loose 
sand  in  which  his  feet  sank  to  the  depth  of  an  inch 
at  each  step. 

Having  set  out  at  such  an  early  hour,  this  boy, 
who  was  perilling  his  life  in  the  hojoe  of  aiding  his 
father,  believed  the  more  dangerous  portion  of  the 
journey  might  be  accomplished  before  the  heat  of 
the  day  should  be  the  most  severe. 

When  the  sun  rose  Dick  had  travelled,  as  nearly 
as  he  could  estimate,  over  three  miles  of  desert; 
and  his  courage  increased  with  the  knowledge  that 
one-fifth  of  the  distance  across  the  sands  had  already 
been  traversed. 

At  the  end  of  the  next  hour  he  said  to  himself 
that  he  must  be  nearly  midway  on  the  road  of 
sand ;  and  although  the  labor  of  walking  was 
most  severe,  his  heart  was  very  light. 

"  Once  across,  I'll  push  on  as  fast  as  any  fellow 
can  walk,"  he  said  aloud,  as  if  the  sound  of  his 
own  voice  gave  him  cheer.  "  By  making  an  extra 
effort  I  ought  to  be  in  Antelope  Spring  before  mid- 
night, and  have  plenty  of  time  to  sleep  between 
now  and  morning.  Half  a  day  there  to  sell  the 
rifle,    an'   buy  what    is    needed,    an'   by  sunset   I 


38  DICK  IN   THE  DESERT, 

should  be  at  the  edge  of  the  desert  again,  ready 
to  make  this  part  of  the  tramp  after  dark." 

He  walked  quickly^  and  like  one  who  intends  to 
go  but  a  short  distance. 

The  forty-five-mile  tramp  seemed  to  him  but  a 
trifle  as  compared  with  what  was  to  be  gained  by 
the  making  of  it. 

He  thought  of  his  mother  as  she  read  the  note 
he  had  left  on  the  flap  of  the  wagon-covering,  and 
wondered  if  she  looked  upon  his  departure  as  an 
act  of  disobedience,  which,  in  fact,  it  was,  since 
both  his  parents  had  insisted  he  should  not  at- 
tempt it. 

Then  his  thoughts  went  out  to  his  father,  and  he 
told  over  in  his  mind  all  the  questions  he  would 
ask  of  the  doctor  at  Antelope  Spring;  for  he  had  no 
doubt  but  that  he  should  find  one  of  that  profession 
there. 

He  took  little  heed  to  the  monotonous  view 
around  him,  until  suddenly  he  saw  in  the  distance 
what  appeared  to  be  a  low-hanging  cloud ;  then 
he  said  to  himself  that  if  a  shower  should  spring 
up  the  sun's  face  would  be  covered,  and  the  heat, 
which  was  now  very  great,  must  be  lessened. 

As  this  cloud  advanced,  descending  to  the  sands 
while  it  rose  toward  the  heavens,  it  grew  more 
black;    and  on  either  side  were  long  columns  of 


A   SAND-STORM.  39 

seeming  vapor  rising,  and  as  rapidly  disappear- 
ing. 

Then  across  the  darkness  on  that  portion  of  the 
horizon  something  bright  moved  swiftly,  as  if  a 
flash  of  lightning  had  passed  over  the  face  of  the 
cloud ;  and  in  an  instant  the  sun  and  the  sky  were 
shut  out  from  view. 

Now  the  clouds  took  on  the  appearance  of  a 
dense  black  fog,  coming  up  from  the  southward 
over  the  desert,  until  Dick  was  seemingly  looking 
at  a  gigantic  wall,  over  the  face  of  which  shone 
now  and  then  bright  flashes  of  light. 

There  was  a  shrieking  and  moaning  in  the  air, 
so  it  seemed  to  the  startled  boy;  and  he  failed  to 
imderstand  the  meaning  of  this  strange  scene,  until, 
the  impenetrable  wall  having  come  so  near,  he 
could  see  that  what  appeared  like  flashes  of  light 
were  gigantic  columns  of  sand  springing  high  in 
the  air  with  fantastic  shapes,  and  glinted  by  the 
sun  from  above  the  apparent  vapor,  until  they  were 
swallowed  up  in  the  enormous  bank  of  cloud  behind 
them. 

Then  it  was  Dick  knew  the  meaning  of  this  ter- 
rible danger  which  threatened  him. 

It  was  a  storm  of  sand.  "  Dancing  giants " 
some  have  termed  it,  and  others  speak  of  it  as  the 
"  hot  blizzard." 


40  DICK  IN   THE  DESERT. 

» 

As  if  in  an  instant  the  dancing,  swirling  columns 
and  the  rushing  cloud  of  sand,  which  swayed  to 
and  fro  in  fantastic  movements,  surrounded  him. 

He  was  in  the  centre  of  a  cyclone  freighted  with 
particles  of  sand. 

The  wind  roared  until  one  might  have  believed 
he  heard  the  crash  of  thunder. 

Dick  halted,  terrified,  bewildered ;  and  as  he  came 
to  a  standstill,  it  seemed  to  him  that  the  clouds  on 
every  hand  lowered  until  he  could  see  the  blue  sky 
above.  Then  with  a  shriek  from  the  wind  the  very 
sand  beneath  his  feet  rose  and  fell  like  billows  of 
the  sea. 

The  tempest  was  upon  him. 

He  shielded  his  eyes  with  his  arm;  but  the  sting- 
ing, heated  particles  sought  out '  every  inch  of  his 
body,  and  his  clothing  afforded  but  little  protection. 

The  sand  penetrated  his  ears  and  nostrils,  and 
burned  his  lips  until  they  bled. 

He  had  heard  it  said  that  to  remain  motionless 
in  such  a  tempest  means  death;  for  wherever  the 
wind  meets  with  an  obstruction,  there  it  piles  the 
sand  in  huge  mounds,  and  his  father  had  told  of 
more  than  one  hunter  who  had  thus  been  buried 
alive. 

It  was  death  to  remain  motionless,  and  yet  to 
move  seemed  impossible. 


A   SAND-STORM.  41 

Whether  he  turned  to  the  right  or  the  left  the 
whirlwind  struck  him  with  a  fury  which  it  was 
difficult  to  withstand.  It  was  as  if  the  wind  swept 
in  upon  him  from  every  point  of  the  compass — 
as  if  he  was  the  centre  of  this  whirling,  dancing, 
blinding,  murderous  onrush  of  sand. 

The  boy's  throat  was  dry.  He  was  burning  with 
thirst. 

The  dust-laden  air  seemed  to  have  literally  filled 
his  lungs,  and  it  was  with  difficulty  he  could 
breathe. 

Despite  the  protection  he  sought  to  give,  his 
eyes  were  inflamed,  and  the  lids  cruelly  swollen. 

He  sank  ankle-deep  at  every  step,  and  above 
him  and  around  him  the  wild  blasts  shrieked,  until 
there  were  times  when  he  feared  lest  he  should  be 
thrown  from  his  feet. 

Pulling  his  hat  down  over  his  aching  eyes,  the 
bewildered,  terrified  boy  tried  to  gain  some  relief 
from  the  thirst  which  assailed  him. 

He  understood  that  the  contents  of  his  canteen 
must  be  guarded  jealously;  for  if  he  lived  there 
were  still  several  miles  of  the  desert  journey  to  be 
traversed,  and  the  walking  would  be  even  more 
difficult  than  before  the  storm  set  in,  because  of 
the  shifting  sand. 

His  distress  rendered  him  reckless;  and  regard- 


42  BICK  IN   THE  DESERT. 

less  of  the  future,  he  drank  fully  half  the  water  in 
the  canteen,  bathing  his  eyes  with  a  small  quantity 
poured  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand. 

It  would  have  been  better  if  he  had  not  tried  to 
find  relief  by  this  last  method,  for  the  flying  parti- 
cles of  sand  adhered  to  such  portions  of  his  face  as 
were  wet,  forming  a  coating  over  the  skin  almost 
instantly. 

He  attempted  to  brush  it  off,  and  the  gritty  sub- 
stance cut  into  his  flesh  as  if  he  had  rubbed  it  with 
emery-paper. 

Then  came  into  Dick's  mind  the  thought  that 
he  should  never  more  see  his  parents  on  this  earth, 
and  for  the  instant  his  courage  so  far  deserted  him 
that  he  was  on  the  point  of  flinging  himself  face 
downward  upon  the  sand. 

Fortunately  there  appeared  before  his  mental 
vision  a  picture  of  his  father  lying  in  the  wagon 
with  the  certainty  that  death  would  come  unless 
his  son  could  bring  relief,  and  this  nerved  the  boy 
to  yet  greater  exertion. 

With  his  arms  over  his  face,  he  pushed  forward 
once  more,  not  knowing  whether  he  might  be  retra- 
cing his  steps,  or  proceeding  in  the  proper  direction. 

Every  inch  of  advance  was  made  against  the 
fierce  wind  and  drifting  sand  which  nearly  over- 
threw him. 


A    SAND-STORM.  43 

Every  breath  he  drew  was  choked  with  dust. 

How  long  he  thus  literally  fought  against  the 
elements  it  was  impossible  for  him  so  much  as  to 
conjecture. 

He  knew  his  strength  was  spending  rapidly;  and 
when  it  seemed  as  if  he  could  not  take  another 
step,  he  stumbled,  and  fell  against  a  mound  of 
sand. 

It  had  been  built  by  the  "  dancing  giants  "  when 
some  obstruction  had  been  found  in  the  path  of 
the  storm;  and  as  Dick  fell  prostrate  at  the  foot 
of  this  slight  elevation,  there  instantly  came  a 
sense  of  deepest  relief. 

The  sand  was  no  longer  thrown  against  him  by 
the  blast ;  the  wind  had  ceased  to  buffet  him ;  he 
was  in  comparative  quiet,  and  for  an  instant  he 
failed  to  understand  the  reason. 

Then  he  realized  that  this  mound,  which  had 
thrown  him  from  his  feet,  was  affording  a  shelter 
against  the  tempest,  which  was  now  coming  from 
one  direction  instead  of  in  a  circle  as  heretofore ; 
and  a  fervent  prayer  of  thanksgiving  went  up  from 
his  heart,  for  he  believed  his  life  had  been  saved 
that  he  might  aid  his  father. 

After  recovering  in  a  measure  from  the  exhaus- 
tion consequent  upon  his  battle  with  the  elements, 
he  proceeded  with  infinite  care  to  brush  the  par- 


44  DICK  IN   THE  DESERT. 

tides  of  sand  from  his  face;  and  this  done,  his 
relief  was  yet  greater. 

Overhead  the  air  was  full  of  darkness ;  the  wind 
still  screamed  as  it  whirled  aloft  the  spiral  columns 
of  dust ;  the  wave-like  drift  of  the  sand  surged  on 
either  side  ;  but  for  the  moment  he  was  safe. 

He  had  been  told  that  such  tempests  were  of 
but  short  duration,  and  yet  it  seemed  to  him  as 
if  already  half  a  day  had  been  spent  in  this  fight 
for  life. 

Then  he  said  to  himself  that  he  could  remain 
where  he  was  in  safety  until  the  wind  had  sub- 
sided ;  but  even  as  the  words  were  formed  in  his 
mind  he  was  conscious  of  a  weight  upon  his  limbs 
as  if  something  was  bearing  him  down,  and  for  the 
first  time  he  realized  that  he  was  being  rapidly 
buried  alive. 

To  remain  where  he  was  ten  minutes  longer 
must  be  fatal;  and  perhaps  even  that  length  of 
time  would  not  be  allowed  him,  for  if  the  wind  so 
shifted  as  to  cut  off  the  top  of  the  mound,  then 
he  would  be  overwhelmed  as  if  in  a  landslide. 

There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  go  into  the  con- 
flict once  more ;  and  in  this  second  effort  the  odds 
would  be  still  greater  against  him,  because  his 
courage  was  lessened. 

He  knew  the  danger  which  menaced,  and  the 


A    SAND-STORM.  45 

suffering  he  would  have  to  endure  the  instant  he 
rose  from  behind  the  poor  shelter;  yet  it  was 
necessary,  and  the  boy  staggered  to  his  feet. 

There  was  nothing  to  guide  him  in  the  right 
direction,  for  all  around  was  blackness  and  flying 
grit;  yet  he  believed  his  way  lay  directly  in  the 
teeth  of  the  storm,  and  because  of  such  belief 
pressed  onward,  resolving  that  he  would  continue 
as  long  as  was  possible. 

As  he  said  to  himself  so  he  did,  staggering  this 
way  and  that,  but  ever  pressing  forward  on  the 
course  which  he  believed  to  be  the  true  one,  blinded, 
choking,  bewildered  by  the  swirling  particles  until 
he  was  dimly  conscious  of  falling,  and  then  he 
knew  no  more. 

At  the  moment  Dick  fell  vanquished,  hardly 
more  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant  were  two 
men  mounted  on  Indian  ponies,  and  leading  three 
burros  laden  with  a  miner's  outfit  for  prospect- 
ing. 

To  them  the  sand-storms  of  the  desert  were  not 
strange ;  and  with  the  knowledge  born  of  experi- 
ence they  made  preparations  for  "riding  out  the 
gale,"  when  the  low,  dark  cloud  first  appeared  in 
the  eastern  horizon. 

The' animals  were,  fastened  with  their  heads  to- 
gether; the  riders  bending  forward  in  the  saddles. 


46  DICK  IN  THE  DESERT. 

and,  as  well  as  it  could  be  accomplished,  throwing 
over  all  the  heads  a  number  of  blankets. 

The  two  horsemen  had  taken  the  precaution 
while  assuming  this  position  to  present  their  backs 
to  the  wind,  and  each  had  tied  one  end  of  his 
blanket  around  his  waist  in  such  manner  that  it 
could  not  be  stripped  off  by  the  tempest. 

Two  or  three  blankets  were  fastened  to  the  heads 
of  the  animals,  and  thus  the  faces  of  all  were  pro- 
tected. 

When  the  sand  had  whirled  around  them  until 
the  animals  were  buried  nearly  to  their  bellies,  the 
riders  forced  the  bunch  onward  ten  or  fifteen  paces, 
continuing  to  make  this  change  of  location  at  least 
every  five  minutes  during  the  entire  time  the  tem- 
pest raged ;  and  thus  it  was  they  escaped  being 
buried  in  the  downpour  of  sand. 

From  the  time  the  first  blast  struck  Dick,  until 
the  "  dancing  giants  "  whirled  away  to  the  west- 
ward, leaving  the  sky  unclouded  and  the  yellow 
sands  shimmering  in  the  sunlight,  no  more  than 
thirty  minutes  had  passed;  yet  in  that  short  inter- 
val one  human  life  on  which  others  depended  would 
have  been  sacrificed,  unless  these  two  travellers 
who  were  uninjured  should  chance  to  reach  that 
exact  spot  where  lay  the  boy  partially  covered  by 
the  desert's  winding-sheet. 


A    SAND-ST0R3I.  47 

"  You  can  talk  of  a  gale  at  sea  where  the  sailors 
are  half  drowned  all  the  time ;  but  it  ain't  a  marker 
alongside  of  these  'ere  red-hot  blizzards,  eh,  Par- 
sons?" one  of  the  horsemen  said  as  he  threw  off 
the  blanket  from  his  head  with  a  long-drawn  sigh 
of  relief. 

"  Drownin'  must  be  mighty  pleasant  kind  of  fun 
alongside  of  chokin'  to  death  on  account  of  bein' 
filled  plum  full  with  dry  sand,"  Parsons  replied. 
"I  allow  there  ain't  no  call  for  us  to  stay  here 
braggin'  about  our  Nevada  hurricanes,  Tom  Robin- 
son, more  especially  since  we'll  make  less  headway 
now  the  sand  has  been  stirred  up  a  bit." 

"There's  nothin'  to  hold  me  here,"  Robinson  re- 
plied with  a  laugh. 

Straightway  the  two  men  turned  their  ponies' 
heads  toward  the  west ;  and  as  they  advanced  the 
patient  burros,  laden  with  a  miscellaneous  assort- 
ment of  goods  until  little  else  than  their  heads  and 
tails  could  be  seen,  followed  steadily  in  the  rear. 

Five  minutes  after  they  had  resumed  their  jour- 
ney Parsons  cried,  as  he  raised  himself  in  the  stir- 
rups, shading  his  eyes  with  his  hands  as  he  peered 
ahead,  — 

"AVhat's  that  'ere  bit  of  blue  out  there?  Part 
of  somebody's  outfit  ?  or  was  there  a  shipwreck  close 
at  hand?" 


48  DICK  IN   THE  DESERT. 

"It's  a  man  —  most  likely  a  tenderfoot,  if  he 
tried  to  walk  across  this  'ere  desert." 

The  two  halted,  and  Dick  Stevens's  life  was  saved. 

Had  the  storm  lasted  two  or  three  minutes 
longer,  or  these  prospectors  gone  in  any  other  di- 
rection, he  must  have  died  where  he  had  fallen. 

Now  he.  was  dragged  out  from  beneath  the 
weight  of  sand,  and  laid  upon  a  blanket,  while  the 
men,  knowing  by  experience  what  should  be  done 
in  such  cases,  set  about  restoring  the  boy  to  con- 
sciousness. 

Thanks  to  the  timely  attention,  Dick  soon  opened 
his  eyes,  stared  around  him  for  an  instant  in  be- 
wilderment, and  then  exclaimed  as  he  made  a  vain 
attempt  to  rise,  — 

"I  come  pretty  near  knockin'  under,  didn't  I? 
The  last  I  remember  was  of  fallin'." 

"I  allow  it  was  the  closest  shave  you'll  ever 
have  agin,"  Parsons  replied  grimly;  "an'  I'm  free 
to  say  that  them  as  are  sich  fools  as  to  cross  this 
'ere  sand-barren  afoot  oughter  stay  on  it,  like  as 
you  were  in  a  fair  way  of  doin'  before  we  come 
along." 

"  An'  that's  what  daddy  would  say,  I  s'pose. 
If  he'd  known  what  I  was  goin'  to  do,  there  would 
have  been  a  stop  put  to  it,  even  though  it  was  to 
save  his  life  I  came." 


A   SAND-STORM.  49 

"How  can  you  save  anybody's  life  by  comin' 
out  in  sich  a  tom-fool  way  as  this  ?  Less  than  a 
quart  of  water,  and  not  so  much  as  a  blanket  with 
which  to  protect  yourseK." 

"I  can  do  it  by  goin'  to  Antelope  Spring  an' 
findin'  a  doctor,"  Dick  replied.  "You  see,  daddy 
shot  himself  in  the  leg  —  stove  a  bone  all  to  pieces; 
and  mother  don't  know  what  to  do,  so  I  slid  off 
this  mornm'  without  tellin'  anybody." 

"Countin'  on  footin'  it  to  Antelope  Spring?" 
Parsons  asked  as  if  in  surprise. 

"Yes;  it  ain't  more'n  forty-five  miles  the  way 
we've  reckoned  it." 

"Where  did  you  start  from?" 

"  Buffalo  Meadows." 

"  And  when  did  you  count  on  makin'  that  forty- 
five  miles  ?  " 

"  I  allowed  to  get  there  before  midnight." 

"  Where's  your  camp  ?  " 

"  Well,  we  haven't  got  anything  you  can  rightly 
call  a  camp ;  but  we're  located  in  a  prairie  schooner 
near  by  the  spring  in  the  valley." 

"  How  many  in  the  party  ?  " 

"  Daddy,  mother,  an'  Margie." 

The  two  men  looked  at  Dick  an  instant,  and 
then  glanced  at  each  other,  after  which  Parsons 
said  emphatically,  — 


50  DICK  IN   THE  DESERT. 

"  The  boy  has  got  grit ;  but  the  old  man  must 
have  been  way  off  to  come  through  this  section  of 
the  country  in  a  wagon." 

Dick  explained  how  it  was  they  chanced  to  be 
travelling,  and  then,  eager  to  gain  all  the  infor- 
mation possible,  asked, — 

"  Do  you  know  anything  about  Antelope  Spring  ?  " 

"Nothin'  good.  There's  a  settlement  by  that 
name;  but  it's  a  no-account  place." 

"I  s'pose  I'll  find  a  doctor?" 

"I  reckon  they've  got  somethin'  of  the  kind 
hangin'  'round.  But  are  you  countin'  on  draggin' 
one  down  to  Buffalo  Meadows?" 

"I  don't  expect  to  be  so  lucky.  But  mother 
seemed  to  have  the  idea  that  if  somebody  who 
knew  all  about  it  would  tell  her  how  to  take  care 
of  daddy's  wound,  she'd  get  along  with  such  stuff 
as  I  could  fetch  to  help  him  out  in  the  fever.  Say, 
I  don't  reckon  either  of  you  wants  to  buy  a  good 
rifle?  There  ain't  a  better  one  on  Humboldt 
River; "  and  as  he  spoke  Dick  unslung  the  weapon 
which  hung  at  his  back. 

"  What's  your  idea  in  sellin'  the  gun  ?  It  strikes 
me,  if  you're  countin'  on  pullin'  through  from  Buf- 
falo Meadows  to  Willow  Point,  you'll  need  it." 

"  Of  course  I  shall ;  but  it's  got  to  go.  You  see, 
daddy's  dead  broke,  an'  I  must  have  money  to  pay 


A   SAND-ST0R3f.  51 

for  the  doctor's  stuff.  I  don't  s'pose  you  want  it; 
but  if  you  did,  here's  a  good  chance.  If  you  don't 
buy  I  reckon  there'll  be  some  one  up  to  Antelope 
Spring  who'll  take  it  off  my  hands." 

"  Haven't  you  got  anything  else  you  can  put  up, 
instead  of  lettin'  the  rifle  go?  In  this  section  of 
the  country  a  tool  like  that  will  stand  a  man  good 
agin  starvation." 

"  It's  all  I  own  that's  worth  anything,  an'  I'll  be 
mighty  sorry  to  lose  it;  but  she's  got  to  go." 

Again  the  men  looked  at  the  boy,  then  at  each 
other ;  and  Parsons  motioned  for  his  companion  to 
follow  him  a  short  distance  away,  where,  to  Dick's 
great  surprise,  they  began  an  animated  conversation. 


52  DICK  IN   THE  DESERT. 


CHAPTER  lY. 

AT   ANTELOPE    SPRING. 

ICK  was  perplexed  by  the  behavior  of 
these  two  strangers.  He  failed  utterly 
to  understand  why  they  should  have 
anything  of  such  a  private  nature  to 
discuss  that  it  was  necessary  to  move  aside  from 
him;  for  in  a  few  moments  they  would  be  alone 
on  the  desert,  after  he  had  gone  his  way. 

The  discussion,  or  conversation,  whichever  it 
may  have  been,  did  not  occupy  many  moments ; 
but  brief  as  was  the  time,  Dick  had  turned  to  con- 
tinue his  journey  at  the  instant  when  the  men 
rejoined  him. 

"  What  do  you  allow  you  ought  to  get  for  that 
rifle  ?  "    Parsons  asked  abruptly. 

"That's  what  I  don't  know.  You  see,  I  didn't 
buy  it  new,  but  traded  for  her  before  we  left 
home.  It  seems  to  me  she  ought  to  be  a  bargain 
at  —  at  —  ten  dollars." 

"An'  if  you  get  the  cash  you're  goin'  to  blow  it 
right  in  for  what  the  doctor  can  tell  you,  an'  sicli 


AT  ANTELOPE  SPRING.  53 

stuff  as  he  thinks  your  old  man  ought  to  have 
eh?" 

"  That's  what  I'll  do  if  it  costs  as  much." 

"  S'posen  it  don't  ?  Allow  that  you've  got  five 
dollars  left,  what  then  ?  " 

"  I'll  buy  flour,  an'  bacon,  an'  somethin'  for 
mother  an'  Margie  with  the  balance." 

'^  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  your  father  was  sich  a 
tenderfoot  as  to  come  down  through  this  way  with- 
out any  outfit  ?  "     Robinson  asked  sternly. 

"  He  had  plenty  at  the  time  we  started ;  but  you 
see  we  struck  bad  luck  all  the  way  along,  and  when 
we  pulled  into  Buffalo  Meadows  we  had  cooked  the 
last  pound  of  flour.  There  wasn't  even  a  bit  of 
meat  in  the  camp  when  he  got  shot.  I  knocked 
over  a  deer  last  night,  an'  that  will  keep  'em  goin' 
till  I  get  back." 

"  An'  a  kid  like  you  is  supportin'  a  family,  eh  ?  " 
Parsons  asked  in  a  kindly  tone. 

"  I  don't  know  what  kind  of  a  fist  I'm  goin'  to 
make  of  it ;  but  that's  what  I'll  try  to  do  till  daddy 
gets  on  his  feet  again.  Say,  how  long  do  you 
s'pose  it'll  take  a  man  to  get  well  when  one  leg  is 
knocked  endways  with  a  bullet  plum  through  the 
bone  of  it?" 

"  It'll  be  quite  a  bit,  I'm  thinkin'  —  too  long 
for  you  to  stay  in  Buffalo  Meadows  at  this  time 


64  DICK  IN    THE  DESEBT. 

of  the  year.  Two  months  ought  to  do  it,  eh,  Par- 
sons?" 

"Well,  yes;  he  won't  get  'round  any  quicker 
than  that." 

"  I  don't  know  as  it  makes  much  difference  if  he 
can't  walk  a  great  deal,  'cause  after  the  horses  have 
had  plenty  of  grass  for  a  couple  of  weeks  we'll  pull 
across  this  place;  an'  once  on  the  other  side  I 
sha'n't  worry  but  what  I  can  take  'em  through  all 
right." 

"  Look  here,  my  son,"  Eobinson  said,  as  he  laid  his 
hand  on  the  lad's  shoulder.  "  You've  got  plenty  of 
sand,  that's  a  fact.  I  allow  there  ain't  a  kid  within 
a  thousand  miles  of  here  that  would  tackle  the  con- 
tract you've  taken  this  mornin'.  If  we  wasn't  bound 
to  the  Winnemucca  Range,  an  it  wasn't  quite  so 
late  in  the  season,  we'd  help  you  out  by  goin'  down 
to  camp  an'  straightenin'  things  a  bit ;  but  it  can't 
be  done  now.  We'll  buy  your  rifle  though,  an'  that's 
what  we've  agreed  on.  Ten  dollars  ain't  sich  a  big 
pile  for  the  gun;  but  yet  it's  plenty  enough — least- 
ways, it's  all  we  can  afford  to  put  out  just  now." 

"  I'll  be  mighty  glad  to  sell  it  for  that  if  you 
need  a  rifle;  an'  it'll  be  better  to  make  the  trade 
now  than  wait  till  I  get  into  Antelope  Spring, 
'cause  there's  no  dead  certainty  I'll  find  anybody 
there  who'll  buy  it." 


AT  ANTELOPE  SPRING.  5o 

Parsons  took  from  a  buckskin  bag  a  small  roll 
of  bills,  and  when  he  had  counted  out  ten  dollars 
there  was  but  little  of  the  original  amount  remain- 
ing. 

He  handed  the  money  to  Dick ;  and  the  latter,  af- 
ter the  briefest  hesitation,  held  the  rifle  toward  him. 

"Sorry  to  give  it  up,  eh?"  Eobinson  asked. 

"Well,  I  ain't  when  it  comes  to  gettin'  the  money 
for  daddy ;  if  it  wasn't  for  that  I'd  be.  You  see, 
it's  the  first  one  I  ever  owned,  an'  the  way  things 
look  now,  it'll  be  a  good  while  before  I  get  an- 
other." 

"  I'll  tell  you  how  we'll  fix  it,  son.  My  partner 
an'  I  ain't  needin'  an  extra  rifle  just  now ;  an'  more 
than  as  likely  as  not — in  fact,  I  may  say  it's  certain 
—  we'll  be  up  'round  your  way  before  the  winter 
fairly  sets  in.  Now,  if  you  could  keep  it  for  us  till 
then,  it  would  be  the  biggest  kind  of  a  favor,  'cause 
you  see  we're  prospectin',  an'  have  got  about  all 
the  load  the  burros  can  tackle." 

"You're — you're — sure  you  want  to  buy  this 
gun,  eh?" 

"Well,  if  we  wasn't,  there  wouldn't  have  been 
much  sense  in  makin'  the  talk." 

"  But  if  you're  prospectors,  there  isn't  any  show 
of  your  gettin'  'roimd  to  Willow  Point." 

"Oh,  we  drift  up  an'  down,  here  an'  there,  just 


56  DICK  IN  THE  DESERT. 

as  the  case  may  be.  There  ain't  any  question  about 
our  trailin'  all  over  the  State  in  time,  and  you  shall 
keep  the  rifle  in  good  shape  till  we  call  for  it.  So 
long,  my  son.  It's  time  for  you  to  be  hoofin'  it, 
if  you  count  on  gettin'  to  Antelope  Spring  this  side 
of  to-morrow  mornin'." 

As  he  spoke,  Parsons  mounted  his  pony,  Robin- 
son following  the  example ;  and  in  another  moment 
the  two  were  on  their  way  once  more,  leaving  Dick 
in  a  painful  state  of  uncertainty  regarding  their  pur- 
pose in  purchasing  the  gun. 

During  two  or  three  minutes  the  boy  stood  where 
they  had  left  him,  and  then  cried,  — 

"  Hello  there  !     Hold  on  a  minute,  will  you  ?  " 

"What's  the  matter  now?"  and  Parsons  looked 
over  his  shoulder,  but  neither  he  nor  his  partner 
reined  in  their  steeds. 

"Are  you  buyin'  this  rifle?  or  are  you  makin' 
believe  so's  to  give  me  the  ten  dollars?" 

"S'posen  we  was  makin'  believe?" 

"Why  then  I  wouldn't  take  the  money,  'cause 
I  ain't  out  begging." 

"  Don't  fret  yourself,  my  son.  We've  bought 
the  gun  all  right ;  an'  the  next  time  we  meet,  you 
can  hand  it  over.  I  wish  our  pile  had  been  bigger 
so's  we  could  have  given  twenty,  'cause  a  kid  like 
you  deserves  it." 


AT  ANTELOPE  SPBING.  67 

The  horsemen  continued  on,  and  by  this  time 
were  so  far  away  that  Dick  would  have  been  un- 
wise had  he  attempted  to  overtake  them. 

He  stood  irresolutely  an  instant  as  if  doubtful  of 
the  genuineness  of  this  alleged  business  transaction. 

It  was  as  if  the  men  feared  he  might  attempt  to 
overtake  them ;  for  despite  the  heavy  loads  on  the 
burros  they  urged  the  beasts  forward  at  their  best 
pace,  and  Dick  was  still  revolving  the  matter  in  his 
mind  when  they  were  a  mile  or  more  away. 

"  Well,  it's  no  use  for  me  to  stand  here  tryin'  to 
figure  out  whether  they've  given  me  this  money  or 
really  mean  to  buy  the  rifle,  for  I've  got  to  strike 
Antelope  Spring  between  this  time  an'  midnight. 
Now  that  there  are  ten  dollars  in  my  pocket,  I'll 
be  a  pretty  poor  stick  if  I  don't  do  it;  but  the 
sand-storm  came  mighty  near  windin'  me  up.  It 
was  the  toughest  thing  I  ever  saw." 

Then  Dick  set  forward  once  more,  toiling  over 
the  loose  surface  into  which  his  feet  sank  three  or 
four  inches  at  every  step ;  and  when  he  finally  stood 
on  the  firm  soil  east  of  this  waste  of  shifting  sand, 
it  was  two  hours  past  noon. 

As  he  had  reckoned,  there  were  more  than  thirty 
miles  yet  to  be  traversed ;  but  the  distance  troubled 
him  little. 

He  had  in  his  possession  that  which  would  buy 


58  DICK  IN   THE  DESERT. 

such  knowledge  and  such  drugs  as  his  father  might 
need,  and  he  beheved  it  would  be  almost  a  sin  to 
rebel  even  in  his  thoughts  against  the  labor  which 
must  be  performed. 

Now  he  advanced,  whistling  cheerily,  with  a 
long  stride  and  a  swinging  gait  that  should  have 
carried  him  over  the  trail  at  the  rate  of  four  miles 
an  hour ;  and  not  until  late  in  the  afternoon  did  he 
permit  himself  to  halt,  and  partake  of  the  broiled 
venison.  / 

Then  he  ate  every  morsel,  and,  the  meal  finished, 
said  aloud  with  a  low  laugh  of  perfect  content :  — 

"It's  lucky  I  didn't  bring  any  more ;  for  I  should 
eat  it  to  a  dead  certainty,  an'  then  I  wouldn't  be 
in  as  good  trim  for  walkin'.  Daddy  always  says 
that  the  less  a  fellow  has  in  his  stomach  the  easier 
he  can  get  over  the  ground,  and  the  poor  old  man 
never  struck  it  truer/' 

After  this  halt  of  fifteen  minutes  Dick  pressed 
forward  without  more  delay  until  he  came  upon 
the  settlement,  at  what  time  he  knew  not,  but 
to  the  best  of  his  belief  it  was  hardly  more  than 
an  hour  past  midnight. 

There  was  no  thought  in  his  mind  of  spending 
any  portion  of  the  money  for  a  bed. 

The  earth  offered  such  a  resting-place  as  satis- 
fied him ;  and  since  the  day  his  father  departed  from 


AT  ANTELOPE  SPRING.  59 

Willow  Point  in  the  hope  of  finding  a  location 
where  he  could  earn  a  livelihood  with  but  little 
labor,  Dick  had  more  often  slept  upon  the  ground 
than  elsewhere. 

Now  he  threw  himself  down  by  the  side  of  a 
storehouse,  or  shed,  where  he  would  be  protected 
from  the  night  wind ;  and  there  was  hardly  more 
than  time  to  compose  himself  for  rest  before  his 
eyes  were  closed  in  slumber. 

No  person  in  Antelope  Spring  was  awake  at  an 
earlier  hour  next  morning  than  Dick  Stevens ;  for 
the  sun  had  not  yet  shown  himself  when  the  boy 
arose  to  his  feet,  and  looked  around  as  if  to  say  that 
he  was  in  fine  condition. 

"A  tramp  of  forty-five  miles  ain't  to  be  sneezed 
at,  an'  when  you  throw  in  fifteen  miles  of  desert 
an'  a  sand-storm  to  boot,  it's  what  I  call  a  pretty 
good  day's  work ;  yet  I'm  feelin'  fine  as  a  fiddle,"  he 
said  in  a  tone  of  satisfaction,  after  which  he  made 
an  apology  for  a  toilet  at  the  stream  near-by. 

Dick  had  no  idea  in  which  direction  a  physician 
might  be  found ;  therefore  he  halted  in  front  of  the 
first  store  he  saw  to  wait  until  the  proprietor  came, 
half  an  hour  later,  to  attend  to  customers. 

It  was  such  a  shop  as  one  would  naturally  ex- 
pect to  find  in  a  settlement  among  the  mountains 
of  Nevada. 


60  DICK  IN   THE  DESERT. 

From  molasses  to  perfumery,  and  from  ploughs 
to  fish-hooks,  the  assortment  ran,  until  one  would 
say  all  his  wants  might  be  supplied  from  the  stock. 

Cheese  was  what  Dick  had  decided  upon  for  his 
morning  meal ;  and  after  purchasing  two  pounds, 
together  with  such  an  amount  of  crackers  as  he 
thought  would  be  necessary,  he  set  about  eating 
breakfast  at  the  same  time  that  he  gained  the 
desired  information. 

"  I've  come  from  the  other  side  of  Smoke  Creek 
Desert,"  he  began,  speaking  indistinctly  because 
of  the  fulness  of  his  mouth,  "  an'  want  to  find  a 
doctor." 

"Ain't  sick,  are  yer?"  the  shopkeeper  asked 
with  mild  curiosity. 

"  Daddy  shot  himself  in  the  leg,  an'  mother 
don't  know  what  to  do  for  him ;  so  I've  come  up 
to  hire  a  doctor  to  tell  me,  an'  buy  whatever  he 
says  is  needed." 

"A  kid  like  you  come  across  the  desert !  Where's 
your  pony  ?  " 

"  I  haven't  got  any".  Daddy's  horses  are  so 
nearly  played  out  that  they've  got  to  be  left  to 
grass  two  or  three  weeks,  if  we  count  on  doin'  any- 
thing with  'em." 

"Did  you  walk  across?"  the  shopkeeper  asked 
incredulously. 


AT  ANTELOPE  SPRING.  61 

"  That's  what  I  did  5 "  and  Dick  told  of  his  suf- 
ferings during  the  sand-storm,  not  in  a  boastful 
way,  but  as  if  it  were  his  purpose  to  give  the  pros- 
pectors the  praise  they  deserved. 

When  he  had  concluded,  the  proprietor  plunged 
his  hands  deep  in  his  pockets,  surveyed  the  boy 
from  head  to  foot  much  as  Parsons  and  Robinson 
had,  saying  not  a  word  until  Dick's  face  reddened 
under  the  close  scrutiny,  when  he  exclaimed, — 

"  Well,  I'll  be  jiggered  !  A  kid  of  your  size — • 
say,  how  old  are  you,  bub?" 

"  Thu'teen." 

"  Well,  a  baby  of  thirteen  lightin'  out  across 
Smoke  Creek  Desert,  an'  all  for  the  sake  of  helpin' 
your  dad,  eh?  Do  you  reckon  you  can  bite  out 
of  Dr.  Manter's  ear  all  you  want  to  know,  an'  then 
go  back  an'  run  the  business  ?  " 

"  It  seems  as  if  he  ought  to  tell  me  what  mother 
needs  to  do,  an'  I  can  remember  every  word.  Then 
she  said  there  would  have  to  be  some  medicine  to 
stop  the  fever ;  an'  that's  what  I'm  countin'  on 
buyin',  if  he  gives  me  the  name  of  it." 

"When  are  you  goin'  back?" 

"  I'm  in  hopes  to  get  away  this  noon,  an'  then 
I'll  be  in  camp  by  to-morrow  mornin'." 

"  Say,  sonny,  do  you  want  to  stuff  me  with  the 
yarn  that  you've  travelled  forty-five  miles  in  less'n 


62  DICK  IN   THE  DESERT. 

thirty-six  hours,  an'  count  on  do  in'  the  same  thing 
right  over  agin,  which  is  ninety  miles  in  less'n 
three  days  ?  " 

"  I've  done  the  first  half  of  the  journey,  an'  it 
couldn't  have  been  more'n  two  hours  past  mid- 
night when  I  got  here.  With  such  a  lay-out  as 
this  for  breakfast  I'll  be  in  good  shape  for  goin' 
back ;  an'  it  would  be  a  mighty  poor  boy  who 
couldn't  get  there  between  this  noon  an'  to-morrow 
mornin',  'cause  I'll  go  across  the  desert  after  dark, 
an'  it  ain't  likely  there'll  be  another  sand-storm." 

"  Well,  look  here,  sonny,  stand  right  there  for 
a  minute,  will  you,  while  I  go  out?  I  won't  be 
gone  a  great  while,  an'  you  can  finish  up  your 
breakfast." 

"But  I  want  to  see  the  doctor  as  soon  as  I  can, 
you  know." 

"  That'll  be  all  right.  I'll  make  it  in  my  way  to 
help  you  along  so  you  sha'n't  be  kept  in  this  town 
a  single  hour  more'n  's  necessary." 

Having  said  this,  and  without  waiting  to  learn 
whether  his  young  and  early  customer  was  willing 
to  do  as  he  had  requested,  the  proprietor  of  the 
store  hurriedly  left  the  building,  and  Dick  had 
finished  his  meal  before  he  returned. 

The  boy  was  stowing  the  remainder  of  the  cheese 
and  crackers  into  his  pockets  when  the  shopkeeper, 


AT  ANTELOPE  SPRING.  63 

accompanied  by  two  men,  who  looked  as  if  they 
might  have  been  hunters  or  miners,  entered. 

"Is  this  the  kid?"  one  of  the  strangers  asked, 
looking  as  curiously  at  the  boy  as  had  the  pro- 
prietor. 

"  That's  the  one ;  an'  the  yarn  he  tells  must  be 
pretty  nigh  true,  'cause  he  met  Parsons  an'  Robin- 
son, an'  accordin'  to  his  story  they  bought  his  rifle, 
leavin'  it  with  him  till  such  time  as  they  want  to 
claim  it." 

The  newcomers  questioned  Dick  so  closely  re- 
garding the  journey  and  its  purpose  that  he 
began  to  fear  something  was  wrong,  and  asked 
nervously,  — 

"What's  the  reason  I  shouldn't  have  come  up 
here  ?  When  a  feller's  father  is  goin'  to  die  if  he 
can't  get  a  doctor  afoul  of  him,  it's  a  case  of  hustlin' 
right  sharp." 

"An'  accordin'  to  the  account  you've  given, 
that's  about  what  you've  been  doin',"  one  of  the 
strangers  said  with  an  approving  nod,  which  re- 
assured the  boy  to  such  an  extent  that  he  answered 
without  hesitation  the  further  questions  which 
were  asked. 

When  the  curiosity  of  the  men  had  been  satisfied, 
one  of  those  whom  the  landlord  had  brought  in, 
and  who  was  addressed  by  his  companions  as  "  Bob 


64  DICK  IN  THE  DESERT. 

Mason/'  said  to  Dick^  as  he  laid  his  hand  on  the 
boy's  shoulder,  — 

"We'll  take  care  of  you,  my  bold  kid,  an'  see 
that  you  get  all  your  father  needs.  If  it  wasn't 
that  the  doctor  in  this  'ere  town  is  worked  mighty 
hard,  I'd  make  it  my  business  to  send  him  right 
down  to  your  camp.  But  I  reckon,  if  it's  nothin' 
more'n  a  bullet  through  your  dad's  leg,  he'll  pull 
'round  all  right  with  sich  things  as  you  can  carry 
from  here.  Now  come  on,  an'  we'll  find  out  what 
the  pill-master  thinks  of  the  case." 

Dick  was  thoroughly  surprised  that  so  much 
interest  in  his  affairs  should  be  manifested  by 
strangers,  and  it  pleased  him  that  he  was  to  have 
assistance  in  this  search  for  medical  knowledge. 

He  followed  this  new  friend  readily,  and  in  a  few 
moments  was  standing  before  the  doctor,  listen- 
ing to  Mr.  Mason's  highly  colored  version  of  the 
journey. 

When  he  would  have  corrected  the  gentleman  as 
to  some  of  the  points  which  had  been  exaggerated, 
he  was  kindly  bade  to  "hold  his  tongue." 

"I've  heard  all  your  yarn,  my  boy,  an'  can  ima- 
gine a  good  many  things  you  didn't  tell.  There's 
precious  few  of  us  in  this  section  of  the  country 
that  was  ever  overtook,  while  on  foot,  by  the 
dancin'  giants,  an'  lived  to  tell  the  story." 


AT  ANTELOPE  SPRING.  65 

"  I  wouldn't  be  alive  if  it  hadn't  been  for  Mr. 
Parsons  an'  Mr.  Robinson." 

"  What  they  did  don't  cut  any  figger.  It's  what 
you  went  through  with  that  I'm  talkin'  about,  an' 
the  doctor  is  bound  to  hear  the  whole  story  before 
he  gives  up  what  he  knows." 

Not  until  Mr.  Mason  had  concluded  the  recital 
after  his  own  fashion  did  he  give  the  professional 
gentleman  an  opportunity  to  impart  the  informa- 
tion which  Dick  had  worked  so  hard  to  obtain; 
and  then  the  physician,  after  telling  him  in  a 
general  way  how  the  patient  should  be  treated, 
wrote  out  in  detail  instructions  for  Mrs.  Stevens 
to  follow. 

Then  from  his  store  of  drugs,  pills,  and  nauseous 
potions  he  selected  such  as  might  be  needed  in  the 
case,  writing  on  each  package  full  directions,  at  the 
expense  of  at  least  an  hour's  time;  and  when  he 
had  finished,  Dick  believed  that  his  father  would 
suffer  for  nothing  in  the  way  of  medicine. 

"There,  lad,"  Dr.  Manter  said  as  he  concluded 
his  labors,  and  tied  in  the  smallest  possible  compass 
the  articles  he  had  set  out,  "  I  allow  your  mother 
should  be  able  to  do  all  that  is  necessary;  and  unless 
the  bone  is  so  shattered  that  the  leg  must  be  ampu- 
tated, it  is  possible  you  will  get  along  as  well  with- 
out a  physician  as  with  one." 


66  DICK  IN  THE  DESERT. 

"Do  you  mean  there's  a  chance  my  poor  old 
man  might  have  to  let  his  leg  be  cut  off?" 

"  If  you  have  described  the  wound  correctly,  I 
should  say  there  was  every  danger.  I  have  written, 
however,  to  your  mother,  so  that  she  may  be  able 
to  decide  if  anything  of  the  kind  is  probable,  and 
then  you  may  be  obliged  to  make  another  journey 
up  here.  At  all  events,  if  your  father's  life  should 
be  in  danger,  you  may  depend  upon  it  I  will  come 
to  the  camp;  although  I  am  free  to  admit  that  a 
ride  across  Smoke  Creek  Desert  isn't  one  that  I 
hanker  for,  although  you  seem  to  have  made  the 
journey  on  foot  and  thought  little  of  it." 

"  That's  'cause  I  was  doin'  it  on  daddy's  account. 
How  much  is  your  price  for  this  stuff?  " 

Mr.  Mason  instantly  plunged  his  hand  in  his 
pocket ;  and  before  he  could  withdraw  it  the  physi- 
cian replied,  — 

"  You  have  earned  all  I've  given  you,  lad ;  and 
I'd  be  ashamed  to  take  even  a  dollar  from  a  plucky 
little  shaver  like  you." 

"  But  I've  got  ten  dollars,  an'  can  pay  my  way. 
If  I'd  thought  the  prospectors  meant  to  give  me 
the  money  instead  of  buyin'  the  rifle,  I'd  got  along 
without  it ;  but  they  said  twice  over  that  they 
wanted  the  gun,  an'  I  believed  'em." 

"  No  one  can  accuse  you  of  being  a  beggar;  but 


AT  ANTELOPE  SPBING.  67 

if  it's  the  same  to  you,  I'd  rather  let  this  go  on 
account,  and  some  day  perhaps,  when  you've 
struck  it  rich,  come  around  and  we'll  have  a 
settlement." 

"  Doctor,  you're  a  man,  every  inch  of  you ! "  Mr. 
Mason  said  in  a  loud  tone,  as  he  slapped  the  phy- 
sician on  the  shoulder  with  a  force  that  caused  him 
to  wince  with  absolute  pain.  "You're  a  man  ;  an' 
if  the  people  in  this  town  don't  know  it  already, 
they  shall  find  it  out  from  yours  truly.  I  reckon 
we  can  ante  up  a  little  something  in  this  'ere 
matter,  so  the  kid  won't  go  home  empty-handed; 
for  I  tell  you  there's  nothin'  in  Antelope  Spring 
too  good  for  him." 

Again  Dick  looked  about  him  in  surprise  that 
such  praise  should  be  bestowed  for  what  seemed 
to  him  a  very  simple  act.  The  kindly  manner  in 
which  the  physician  bade  him  good-by,  with  the 
assurance  that  he  would  himself  go  to  Buffalo 
Meadows  if  it  should  become  necessary,  served  to 
increase  the  boy's  astonishment ;  and '  instead  of 
thanking  the  gentleman,  he  could  only  say,  be- 
cause of  his  bewilderment, — 

"  I  did  it  for  daddy,  sir ;  an'  it  would  be  a  mean 
kind  of  fellow  who  wouldn't  do  as  much." 

Then  Mr.  Mason  hurried  him  away,  and  despite 
Dick's  protests  insisted  on  leading  him  from  one 


68  DICK  IN  THE  DESEBT. 

place  to  another,  until  it  was  as  if  he  had  been  in- 
troduced to  every  citizen  in  the  settlement. 

He  was  not  called  upon  to  tell  his  story  again, 
because  his  conductor  did  that  for  him;  and  the 
details  of  the  narrative  were  magnified  with  each 
repetition,  until  Dick  believed  it  absolutely  neces- 
sary he  should  contradict  certain  portions  wherein 
he  was  depicted  as  a  hero  of  the  first  class. 

When  Mr.  Mason  had  shown  the  boy  fully  around 
the  town,  he  said  by  way  of  parting,  — 

"  Now  you  go  down  to  Mansfield's,  an'  wait 
there  till  I  come." 

"  Where's  Mansfield's  ?  " 

"  That's  the  store  where  I  found  you." 

"But  I  can't  wait  a  great  while,  Mr.  Mason. 
You  know  I've  got  to  be  back  by  to-morrow  morn- 
in' ;  an'  I  ought  to  be  leavin'  now,  'cause  it's  pretty 
near  noon." 

"Don't  worry  your  head  about  that,  my  son. 
You  shall  get  to  camp  before  sunrise  to-morrow 
mornin',  an'  without  so  very  much  work  on  your 
part,  either.  Now  go  down  to  Mansfield's,  an'  wait 
there  till  I  come.  Mind  you  don't  leave  this  town 
till  I'm  back  there." 

Mr.  Mason  hurried  away  as  he  ceased  speaking ; 
and  Dick  walked  slowly  down  the  street,  debatmg 
in  his  mind  whether  he  must  obey  this  order. 


DICK  ''PULLS   THROUGH.''  69 


CHAPTER  Y. 

DICK    "pulls   through." 

HEN  Dick  had  retraced  his  steps  to  Mans- 
field's he  found  no  less  than  ten  of  the 
citizens  there,  several  of  whom  he  had 
already  met ;  and  all  were  evidently 
eager  to  talk  with  the  boy  who  had  walked  across 
Smoke  Creek  Desert. 

There  were  but  few  in  that  section  of  the  coun- 
try who  would  have  dared  to  make  the  venture, 
although  it  was  by  no  means  a  dangerous  or  diffi- 
cult journey  for  a  horseman ;  and  Dick's  bravery, 
in  connection  with  all  the  circumstances,  pleased 
the  citizens  of  Antelope  Spring  wonderfully  w^ell. 

The  package  Dick  carried  told  that  he  had  been 
successful  in  finding  a  physician,  and  Mr.  Mansfield 
was  curious  to  learn  how  much  the  medical  gentle- 
man had  charged  for  his  services. 

"He  wouldn't  take  a  cent,"  Dick  said  in  reply  to 
the  question.  "It  seems  to  me  the  folks  in  this 
town  are  mighty  good." 

"  I  don't  reckon  we'll  ever  be  himg  for  our  good- 


70  DICK  IN   THE  DESERT. 

ness,"  the  proprietor  of  the  shop  said  with  a  grin ; 
"  but  it  is  considerable  of  a  treat  to  see  a  kid  with 
so  much  sand  as  you've  shown.  Dr.  Manter  knew 
which  side  his  bread  was  buttered  on  when  he 
wouldn't  take  your  money ;  an'  if  your  father  don't 
get  better  with  what  you're  takin'  to  him,  you  can 
count  on  Manter  seein'  the  thing  through.  You've 
got  quite  a  load,  my  son." 

"  Yes;  an'  I'm  countin'  on  cari^in'  more,  if  you'll 
take  money  for  what  I  buy.  I  don't  want  to  set 
myself  up  for  a  beggar,  'cause  I've  got  the  stuff  to 
pay  for  everything." 

"What  do  you  want?" 

"About  ten  pounds  of  flour,  and  the  same  weight 
in  bacon  or  salt  pork,  with  a  little  pepper  and  salt, 
will  be  as  much  as  I  can  carry." 

"It's  a  good  deal  more'n  I'd  want  to  tote  forty- 
five  miles  'twixt  now  and  sunset,"  one  of  the  visi- 
tors remarked ;  and  Dick  replied  cheerily,  — 

"It  wouldn't  seem  very  heavy  if  you  was  car- 
ryin'  it  to  your  folks  who'd  had  nothin'  but  fresh 
meat  to  eat  for  the  last  month.  Mother  and  Margie 
will  be  wild  when  I  bring  in  that  much." 

"  I'll  put  up  twenty-five  pounds  in  all,  for  I  reckon 
there  are  other  things  that  would  come  handy," 
Mr.  Mansfield  said  as  he  began  to  weigh  out  the 
articles,  and  Dick  asked  quickly,  — 


DICK  ''PULLS   THBOUGH.''  71 

"  You're  to  let  me  pay  for  'em  ?  " 

"  Sure,"  the  proprietor  replied  as  he  winked  at 
the  loungers.  "You  shall  give  all  the  stuff  is 
worth." 

"1  didn't  want  to  hang  'round  here  very  long; 
but  Mr.  Mason  said  I  was  to  wait  for  him." 

"If  Bob  Mason  give  sich  orders  it'll  be  worth 
your  while  to  stop  a  spell;  for  he's  as  cross- 
grained  as  a  broncho  when  matters  don't  go  to 
his  likin',  an'  might  make  trouble  for  you." 

Dick  was  considerably  disturbed  by  this  remark, 
which  had  much  the  sound  of  a  threat,  and  looked 
out  of  the  door  uneasily. 

The  citizens  had  been  exceedingly  kind  to  him; 
but  he  had  had  no  little  experience  wdth  inhabi- 
tants of  frontier  towns,  and  knew  that  friendship 
might  be  changed  to  enmity  very  suddenly. 

The  shopkeeper  had  not  finished  filling  the  small 
order  when  Bob  Mason  rode  up  on  a  wiry-looking 
broncho,  and  after  tying  the  beast  to  a  hitching- 
post,  entered  the  store. 

"I  had  an  idea  that  was  what  you  were  up  to," 
one  of  the  loungers  said ;  and  Mason  replied  with 
a  laugh,  — 

"When  we  have  sich  a  visitor  as  this  'ere  kid,  I 
reckon  we're  called  on  to  make  things  pleasant  for 
him."     Then  turning  to  Dick  he  added,  "If  it  .so 


72  DICK  IN   THE  DESERT. 

be  your  daddy  pulls  tlirough  all  right  for  the  next 
week  or  ten  days,  he  should  be  in  condition  to  ride 
this  far?" 

"After  the  horses  have  rested  a  little  I  counted 
on  starting  for  Willow  Point." 

"It  strikes  me  that  would  be  too  rough  a  journey 
for  the  old  man  at  this  time  of  the  year.  We're 
needin'  kids  like  you  in  this  town,  an'  I  allow 
you'll  find  a  shelter  here  till  spring.  Then,  if  the 
settlement  don't  suit  you,  it'll  be  only  a  case  of 
goin'  on  when  the  travellin'  is  easier." 

"Do  you  mean  that  we'd  better  live  here?" 
Dick  asked  in  surprise. 

"That's  the  way  some  of  us  have  figgered  it." 

"  Can  I  find  work  enough  to  pay  our  way  ?  You 
see,  daddy  won't  be  in  shape  to  do  anything  for 
quite  a  spell." 

"  I'll  give  you  a  job  on  my  ranch,  an'  pay  fair 
wages." 

"  Then  we'll  be  glad  to  stop." 

"All  right,  my  son.  You  shall  take  your  own 
time  about  comin',  and  I'll  hold  the  job  open  till 
you  get  here.  Now  I'm  allowin'  to  lend  you  that 
broncho,  so  you  can  get  back  in  case  the  old  man 
grows  worse.  He's  a  tricky  beast;  but  I  reckon 
you'll  handle  him  without  any  too  much  trouble. 
The  only  drawback  is  that  I  can't  furnish  a  saddle." 


DICK  "  PULLS   THROUGH.  "  73 

"If  you  can  spare  the  pony,  I'll  get  along  with- 
out the  fixings,"  Dick  replied,  his  eyes  gleaming 
with  delight;  for  with  such  a  steed  he  would  be 
able  to  visit  the  town  at  short  notice,  if  it  should 
become  necessary. 

"  I'm  alio  win'  that  I've  got  a  saddle  he  can  have 
for  a  spell,"  Mr.  Mansfield  replied  thoughtfully ; 
and  although  Dick  insisted  that  there  was  really 
no  need  of  one,  it  was  brought  out. 

The  loungers  took  it  upon  themselves  to  see  that 
the  broncho  was  properly  harnessed ;  and  now  that 
it  was  no  longer  necessary  to  limit  the  weight  of 
the  supplies,  the  shopkeeper  suggested  that  the 
amount  of  flour  and  bacon  be  doubled. 

"  Will  ten  dollars  be  enough  to  pay  for  it  ? " 
Dick  asked. 

"We'll  make  a  charge  of  it,  seein's  you're  goin' 
to  work  for  Bob  Mason.  You  can  give  me  an 
order  on  him  after  you've  been  here  a  spell,  an' 
it'll  be  the  same  thing  as  cash." 

"  Now  you're  doin'  the  square  thing,  Mansfield," 
Mason  said  approvingly;  and  despite  Dick's  pro- 
tests that  he  preferred  to  pay  his  way  so  long  as 
he  had  the  money,  the  matter  was  thus  arranged. 

"You  are  sure  I  can  earn  enough  to  pay  for 
what  we'll  need  to  eat  between  now  and  spring  ?  " 
the  boy  asked  doubtfully. 


74         '  DICK  IN   THE  DESERT. 

"I'm  allowin',  from  what  I've  seen,  that  you'll 
earn  a  man's  wages,  an'  that'll  be  thirty  dollars  a 
month.  If  your  father  is  anything  like  you,  I'll 
guarantee  he  can  find  work  enough  to  support  the 
family ;  an'  Antelope  Spring  is  needin'  settlers 
mighty  bad." 

The  supply  of  provisions  and  the  medicines  were 
packed  in  a  bag,  divided  into  two  portions  of  equal 
weight  that  they  might  be  carried  over  the  saddle, 
and  then  Dick  was  ready  to  mount. 

He  realized  fully  how  kind  the  people  of  the 
town  had  been  to  him,  and  was  e^er  to  say  that 
which  should  give  token  of  the  gratitude  in  his 
heart  ;  but  the  words  refused  to  come  at  his 
bidding. 

He  stammered  in  the  attempt  to  speak,  cleared 
his  throat  nervously,  and  tried  again,  — 

"  You've  been  mighty  good,  all  hands,  an'  I'm 
thinkin'  it'll  help  daddy  pull  through.  I  wish  — 
I  wish"  — 

"That's  all  right,  my  son,"  Bob  Mason  inter- 
rupted. "  We've  got  a  good  idea  of  what  you 
want  to  say,  an'  you  can  let  it  go  at  that.  As 
a  general  thing  we  don't  get  stuck  on  kids;  but 
when  one  flashes  up  in  the  style  you  have,  we 
cotton  to  him  mightily.  You  can  push  that  'ere 
broncho  right  along,  for  forty-five  miles  ain't  any 


DICK  ''PULLS   THROUGH.  75 

terrible  big  job  for  him,  an'  canter  into  camp  tliis 
side  of  midnight  with  considerable  time  to  spare." 

"  I  thank  you  all,  an'  so  will  mother  an'  daddy 
when  they  get  here,"  he  said  in  a. husky  tone,  as 
he  mounted;  and  then  waving  his  cap  by  way  of 
adieu,  he  rode  away,  the  happiest  boy  to  be  found 
on  either  side  of  the  Rocky  Mountains. 

Night  had  not  fully  come  when  he  halted  at  the 
eastern  edge  of  the  desert  to  give  the  broncho 
water  and  grass;  and  here  he  remained  an  hour, 
the  crackers  and  cheese  left  from  breakfast  afford- 
ing an  appetizing  supper  to  a  lad  who  had  known 
but  little  variation  in  his  bill  of  fare  from  fresh 
meat,  broiled  or  stewed,  more  often  without  salt  or 
pepper. 

The  stars  guided  him  on  the  course  across  the 
waste  of  sand,  and  the  pony  made  his  way  over 
the  yielding  surface  at  a  pace  which  surprised  the 
rider. 

"  He  can  walk  four  miles  an  hour,  according  to 
this  showing,  and  I  should  be  in  camp  before  ten 
o'clock." 

In  this  he  was  not  mistaken.  The  broncho 
pushed  ahead  rapidly,  proving  that  he  had  trav- 
ersed deserts  before,  and  was  eager  to  complete  the 
journey;  and  when  Dick  came  within  sight  of 
the  wagon,  his  mother  was  standing  in   front  of 


76  DICK  IN   THE  DESERT 

the  camp-fire,  so  intent  on  broiling  a  slice  of  veni- 
son that  she  was  ignorant  of  his  coming  until  he 
shouted  cheerily, — 

"  Here  I  am,  mother  dear,  coming  along  with 
a  good  bit  of  style,  and  so  many  fine  things  that 
you'll  open  your  eyes  mighty  wide  when  this  bag 
is  emptied.     How  is  my  poor  old  man  ?  " 

He  had  dismounted  as  he  ceased  speaking,  and 
was  instantly  clasped  in  his  mother's  arms. 

"  0  Dick,  Dick,  how  sore  my  heart  has  been ! 
Your  father  said  you  could  not  get  across  the  desert 
on  foot,  and  I  have  pictured  you  lying  on  the  sands 
dying." 

"  You've  made  your  pictures  all  wrong,  dearie ; 
for  here  I  am  in  prime  condition,  and  loaded  down 
with  good  things.  The  people  up  at  Antelope 
Spring  have  shown  themselves  to  be  mighty  gen- 
erous.    How  is  daddy?" 

"  He  is  resting  comfortably  just  now,  although 
he  has  suffered  considerable  pain.  Did  you  see  a 
doctor?" 

"Yes;  an'  am  loaded  way  up  to  the  muzzle  with 
directions  as  to  what  must  be  done.,  Let's  go  in 
and  see  the  poor  old  man,  an'  then  I'll  tell  you 
both  the  story." 

Mr.  Stevens's  voice  was  heard  from  the  inside  of 
the  wagon  as  he  spoke  Dick's  name;  Margie  clam- 


DICK  ''PULLS   THROUGH.''  77 

bered  out,  her  big  brown  eyes  heavy  with  slumber, 
to  greet  her  brother,  and  the  boy  was  forced  to 
receive  her  caresses  before  it  was  possible  to  care 
for  the  broncho. 

Then,  as  soon  as  might  be,  Dick  entered  the 
wagon,  and  the  hand-clasp  from  his  father  was 
sufficient  reward  for  all  his  sufferings  in  the  desert. 

It  was  midnight  before  he  finished  telling  of 
his  journey,  and  reception  by  the  men  of  Antelope 
Spring. 

He  would  have  kept  secret  the  peril  which  came 
to  him  with  the  sand-storm;  but  his  father  ques- 
tioned him  so  closely  that  it  became  necessary  to 
go  into  all  the  details,  and  more  than  once  before 
the  tale  was  concluded  did  his  mother  press  him 
lovingly  to  her  as  she  wiped  the  tears  from  her 
eyes. 

"You  mustn't  cry  now  it  is  all  over,"  he  said 
with  a  smile,  as  he  returned  the  warm  pressure  of 
her  hand.  "I'm  none  the  worse  for  havin'  been 
half  buried,  an'  we're  rich.  I'm  countin'  on  pullin' 
out  of  here  as  soon  as  the  horses  are  in  condition ; 
an'  we'll  stay  at  the  town  till  spring — perhaps 
longer." 

Although  he  claimed  that  he  was  not  hungry, 
his  mother  insisted  on  preparing  supper  from  the 
seemingly  ample  store  of  provisions;  and  when  the 


78  DICK  IN   THE  DESERT. 

meal  had  been  eaten  it  was  so  nearly  morning  that 
Dick  would  have  dispensed  with  the  formality  of 
going  to  bed,  but  that  his  mother  declared  it  was 
necessary  he  should  gain  some  rest. 

His  heart  was  filled  with  thankfulness  when  he 
lay  down  under  the  wagon  again,  covered  with  a 
blanket;  and  perhaps  for  the  first  time  in  his  life 
Dick  did  more  than  repeat  the  prayer  his  mother 
taught  him,  for  he  whispered  very  softly,  — 

"You've  been  mighty  good  to  me,  God,  an'  I 
hope  you're  goin'  to  let  my  poor  old  man  have 
another  whack  at  livin'." 

Dick  had  repeated  to  his  mother  all  the  instruc- 
tions given  him  by  the  physician,  and  before  he 
was  awake  next  morning  Mrs.  Stevens  set  about 
dressing  the  wound  in  a  more  thorough  manner 
than  had  ever  been  possible  before. 

She  was  yet  engaged  in  this  task  when  the  boy 
opened  his  eyes,  and  learning  to  his  surprise  that 
the  day  was  at  least  an  hour  old,  sprang  to  his  feet 
like  one  who  has  been  guilty  of  an  indiscretion. 

"What!  up  already?"  he  cried  in  surprise,  as 
looking  through  the  flap  of  the  wagon-covering,  he 
saw  what  his  mother  was  doing. 

"  Yes,  Dick  dear,  and  I  have  good  news  for  you. 
Both  your  father  and  I  now  think  he  was  mistaken 
in  believing  the  bone  was  shattered  by  the  bullet. 


DICK  ''PULLS   THROUGH.''  79 

Perhaps  it  is  splintered  some,  but  noticing  more 
serious." 

"  Then  you  won't  be  obliged  to  have  it  cut  off, 
daddy,  an'  should  be  able  to  get  round  right  soon." 

"  There's  this  much  certain,  Dick,  whether  the 
bone  is  injured  or  not,  my  life  has  been  saved 
through  your  efforts;  for  I  know  enough  about 
gun-shot  wounds  to  understand  that  I  couldn't 
have  pulled  through  without  something  more  than 
we  were  able  to  get  here." 

"  Yet  you  would  have  prevented  me  from  leaving 
if  I  had  told  you  what  was  in  my  mind." 

"  I  should  for  a  fact ;  because  if  one  of  us  two 
must  go  under,  it  would  be  best  for  mother  an' 
Margie  that  I  was  that  one." 

"  Why,  daddy !  you  have  no  right  to  talk  like 
that ! " 

"It's  true,  Dick.  I've  been  a  sort  of  ne'er-do- 
well,  otherwise  I  wouldn't  have  been  called  Roving 
Dick,  while  you  are  really  the  head  of  the  house." 

"I  won't  listen  to  such  talk,  daddy;  for  it  sounds 
as  if  you  were  out  of  your  head  again,  as  when  we 
were  alone  that  night.  You'll  perk  up  after  we're 
at  Antelope  Spring,  an'  show  the  people  there  what 
you  can  do." 

"  I  shall  be  obliged  to  work  very  hard  in  order 
to  make  a  good  showing  by  the  side  of  you." 


80  BICK  IN   THE  DESERT. 

Dick  hurried  away,  for  it  pained  him  to  hear  his 
father  talk  in  such  fashion ;  yet  at  the  same  time  he 
hoped  most  fervently  that  there  would  be  no  more 
roaming  in  search  of  a  place  where  the  least  possi- 
ble amount  of  labor  was  necessary,  and  it  really 
seemed  as  if  "  Roving  Dick  ^  had  made  up  his 
mind  to  lead  a  different  life. 

There  was  little  opportunity  for  the  boy  to  re- 
main idle. 

The  supplies  he  had  brought  from  Mr.  Mans- 
field's shop  would  not  suffice  to  provide  the  family 
with  food  many  days  unless  it  was  re-enforced  by 
fresh  meat ;  and  as  soon  as  Dick  had  seen  to  it  that 
the  horses  and  the  broncho  were  safe,  he  made 
preparations  for  a  hunting-trip. 

When  breakfast  had  been  eaten,  and  how  deli- 
cious was  the  taste  of  bacon  and  flour-bread  to  this 
little  party,  which  had  been  deprived  of  such  food 
so  long,  he  started  off,  returning  at  night-fall  with 
a  small  deer  and  half  a  dozen  rabbits. 

The  greater  portion  of  the  venison  he  cut  up 
ready  for  smoking;  and  when  his  mother  asked 
why  he  was  planning  so  much  labor  for  himself,  he 
replied  cheerily,  — 

"  We're  likely  to  lay  here  ten  days  at  the  very 
least,  for  the  horses  won't  be  in  condition  to  travel 
in  much  less  time ;  and  now  is  my  chance  to  put  in 


DICK   ''PULLS   THROUGH.''  81 

a  stock  of  provisions  for  the  winter.  It  never' 11 
do  to  spend  all  my  wages  for  food;  because  yoii 
and  Margie  are  to  be  fitted  out  in  proper  shape, 
and  now  I  haven't  even  the  rifle  to  sell,  for  that 
belongs  to  the  prospectors." 

Not  an  idle  hour  did  Dick  Stevens  spend  during 
the  time  they  remained  encamped  at  Buffalo  Mead- 
ows; and  when  the  time  came  that  his  father  be- 
lieved they  might  safely  begin  the  journey  to 
Antelope  Spring,  he  had  such  a  supply  of  smoked 
meat  as  would  keep  the  family  in  food  many 
•days. 

Mr.  Stevens's  wound  had  healed  with  reasonable 
rapidity,  thanks  to  the  materials  for  its  dressing 
which  Dick  had  risked  his  life  to  procure ;  and  on 
the  morning  they  decided  to  cross  the  desert  the 
invalid  was  able  to  take  his  place  on  the  front 
seat  of  the  wagon  to  play  the  part  of  driver. 

Dick  rode  the  broncho,  as  a  matter  of  course; 
and  to  him  this  journey  was  most  enjoyable. 

Not  until  the  second  day  did  the  family  arrive 
at  their  destination,  and  Dick  received  such  a  recep- 
tion as  caused  his  cheeks  to  redden  with  joy. 

Bob  Mason  chanced  to  be  in  front  of  Mansfield's 
store  when  the  party  rode  up,  and  insisted  on  their 
remaining  there  until  he  could  summon  the  inhabi- 
tants of  the  settlement  to  give  them  welcome. 


82  DICK  IN   THE  DESERT. 

"  We're  glad  you've  come,"  Mr.  Mason  said  when 
he  believed  the  time  had  come  for  him  to  make  a 
speech.  "We've  seen  the  kid,  an'  know  how  much 
sand  he's  got ;  so  if  the  rest  of  the  family  are  any- 
thing like  him,  and  I  reckon  they  must  be,  we're 
gettin'  the  kind  of  citizens  we  hanker  after.  I've 
pre-empted  the  boy,  an'  allow  he'll  look  out  for 
things  on  the  ranch  as  well  as  any  man  I  could 
hire,  an'  a  good  deal  better' n  the  average  run. 
We've  got  a  house  here  for  the  rest  of  you,  an' 
Stevens  will  find  plenty  of  work  if  he's  handy  with 
tools.  Now  then,  kid,  we'll  get  the  old  folks 
settled,  an'  after  that  I'll  yank  you  off  with 
me." 

Mason  led  the  way  to  a  rude  shanty  of  boards, 
which  was  neither  the  best  nor  the  worst  dwelling 
in  the  town ;  and  to  Mrs.  Stevens  and  Margie  it 
seemed  much  like  a  palace,  for  it  was  a  place  they 
could  call  home,  a  pleasure  they  had  not  enjoyed 
since  leaving  Willow  Point  two  years  ago. 

Dick  observed  with  satisfaction  that  there  was  a 
sufficient  amount  of  furniture  in  the  shanty  to 
serve  his  parents  until  money  could  be  earned  with 
which  to  purchase  more ;  and  then  he  rode  away 
with  Bob  Mason,  leading  the  team-horses  to  that 
gentleman's  corral. 

He  had  brought  his  family  to  a  home,  and  had 


DICK  ''PULLS   THROUGH.''  83 

before  him  a  good  23rospect  of  supplying  them  with 
food,  even  though  his  father  should  not  be  able  to 
do  any  work  until  the  coming  spring;  therefore 
Dick  Stevens  was  a  very  happy  boy. 

Here  we  will  leave  him ;  for  he  is  yet  in  Mason's 
employ,  and  it  is  said  in  Antelope  Spring  to-day, 
or  was  a  few  months  ago,  that  when  ''  Bob  Mason 
hired  that  kid  to  oversee  his  ranch,  he  knew  what 
he  was  about." 

It  is  hard  to  believe  that  a  boy  only  fifteen  years 
of  age  (for  Dick  has  note  been  an  overseer,  or  "  boss 
puncher"  as  it  is  termed  in  Nevada,  nearly  two 
years)  could  care  for  a  ranch  of  six  hundred  acres; 
yet  he  has  done  it,  as  more  than  one  can  testify, 
and  in  such  a  satisfactory  manner  that  next  year 
he  is  to  have  an  interest  in  the  herds  and  flocks  on 
the  "'Mason  Place."      , 

Mr.  Stevens  recovered  from  the  wound  in  due 
time ;  and  early  in  the  spring  after  his  arrival  at 
the  settlement,  he  joined  Messrs.  Parsons  &  Rob- 
inson in  prospecting  among  the  ranges. 

His  good  fortune  was  even  greater  than  Dick's; 
for  before  the  winter  came  again  the  firm  had 
struck  a  rich  lead  of  silver,  which  has  been  worked 
with  such  profit  that  "Roving  Dick's "  home  is 
one  of  the  best  and  the  cosiest  to  be  foimd  in  the 
State. 


84  DICK  IN   THE  DESERT. 

Mr.  Stevens  would  have  been  glad  had  young 
Dick  decided  to  give  up  his  work  on  the  ranch  ;  but 
the  latter  has  declared  again  and  again  that  he 
will  leave  mining  strictly  alone,  because  "  cattle 
are  good  enough  for  him." 


THE    END. 


